


History has its eyes on you

by Ellabee15



Series: Stormy Weather [10]
Category: Captain America (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-26 23:26:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6260278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellabee15/pseuds/Ellabee15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because of an accident Ororo gets thrown back into the 30's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I feel that I should warn that as this fic takes place in the 30's and that one of the main characters is a woman of color there will be discussions of racism and use of certain words and language associated with racism. 
> 
> It's not easy for me to write these words as I've had to suffer some of this language used towards me, but it would be historically inaccurate to ignore the reality of the time. 
> 
> If that makes you uncomfortable, I understand.
> 
> Also I own nothing. Not even the title. That comes from a Hamilton songtitle

Darkness and strange howling winds battered Ororo as she fell. She held out her hands and concentrated, but to no avail; she had no control over the winds. She had no control whatsoever. The darkness enclosed her, so oppressive that she was sure she’d gone blind. She opened her mouth and let out a scream as her claustrophobia manifested, making her believe she was being crushed. 

She didn’t know how long she’d been falling when suddenly a small pinprick of light appeared in front of her. It got closer and larger until finally she fell into it. Squeezing her eyes closed she braced herself for the impact, but it never came. She was floating in an alleyway in an unfamiliar city. Gasping in surprise, she clattered to the mucky ground. Rolling on her back she looked up at the sky. It was blue and cloudless, just like the sky had been before…she began hyperventilating, and she closed her eyes trying to forget the blackness and the fall. 

“HEY” an angry voice shouted and snapped her back into the present. She sat up in alarm. A man in a butcher’s uniform was standing in the doorway. “You can’t be here.” He growled, waving a knife at her. Then he froze as he looked her up and down. Not unusual; Ororo’s hair and eyes were often a source of confusion for people when they first saw her. 

“I’m sorr-.” She struggled to her feet, but her stomach rolled and she swayed unsteadily. Putting her hand against the wall, she tried to regain her bearings and her balance. Something was very off. The air, the wind currents; they were wrong. “I-“ she looked back at the butcher only to find that he was still looking at her, but that his expression had changed to one of lust. She backed away, getting ready to summon lightning if necessary, but the clouds overhead didn’t respond to her call. A few feeble gray ones entered her line of vision, but her head was pounding too hard to concentrate and her stomach was rolling. She felt faint. 

“You hungry?” He asked and Ororo knew he wasn’t offering food. “I can give you something if you make it worth my while.” He continued, taking her silence as acceptance and an excuse to step forward. She shook her head, backing up and stumbling. 

“No.” she said. The man’s expression reddened. 

“Don’t play games with me girl.” He growled. “You’re all the same. I suppose you need a lesson in -“

“She said no.” A voice said from the other side of the alley. Ororo turned to look at her would be savior. He was standing on the sidewalk in the alley entry, crossing his arms and glaring at them. He was 5 4, blond, pale, and extremely skinny. At first glance Ororo had mistaken him for a child, but there was something about his face that made her look twice. He seemed familiar. Despite his small frame, his voice was strong and authoritative. 

“Doesn’t matter.” The butcher said, grabbing Ororo’s shoulder. “She’s nothing but a nigra whore.” Ororo felt a cold wrench in the bottom of her stomach at the slur. She twisted out of his grasp and kneed him between the legs, backing away. The other man came forward and caught her arm. 

“You alright, miss?” He asked. Ororo recognized a Brooklyn accent, so she was still in New York. She nodded, pulling away from him. 

“Get out of here.” The butcher gasped, clutching between his legs, his face angry. Ororo was willing to do just that, but the short man stood firm and refused to budge. 

“Apologize.” He demanded. 

“Or what?” The butcher laughed. “Whatta you gonna do, Rogers? Cough on me?” He wheezed and straightened up slowly. “the two of ya deserve each otha” He continued. “A half cripple and a ni-“

Rogers turned a bright shade of scarlet and before Ororo could stop him he’d curled up his fist and swung. The blow did little more than stun the other man, and Ororo figured that was more out of surprise than the actual force of the punch. He shook himself and shoved Rogers to the ground. The clouds and her muddled senses still weren’t responding, but Ororo knew she had to remember her combat training. Logan’s voice shouted at her to not rely on her ability and to fight back. Before she could a metal clanging sound rang out in the alley and the angry butcher crumpled to the ground. A tall man with slicked back brown hair was holding a metal pan in his hand. 

“I had him on the ropes, Buck.” Rogers grumbled, getting to his feet and brushing the dirt off his clothes.” He coughed, his friend, Buck, gave him a slightly concerned and exasperated look before shaking his head.

“Of course, punk.” He muttered. “Like you always do before I have to save your ass from being pummeled.” 

“Jerk.” Rogers mumbled. Then his expression turned to one of concern. “Your job.” 

“Eh.” His friend shrugged. “I’ve been wantin to do that for weeks.” He kicked the inert form of the butcher, then tipped an imaginary hat to Ororo. “sides, couldn’t stand back and let him insult a dame like you.” He held out his hand. “The name’s James Buchanan Barnes.” 

Ororo’s eyes grew wide. James…Buchanan Barnes... Bucky Barnes which made her defender…She felt the overwhelming pounding increase and the sky darkened and began to pour freezing rain just as she felt a sick cold feeling spread and the world tilted. The last thing she saw before she passed out was the concerned eyes of the man who would be Captain America staring at her.


	2. Chapter 2

_“Magneto’s hunting for a new recruit.” Charles said. “It is imperative that you find her and convince her to come to the institute.” He was behind his desk and looked concerned._

_“What are her powers?” Jean asked. Ororo could tell that she shared the professor’s destress; her back was stiff and her lips were set into a tight line._

_“I don’t know, but I can sense with Cerebro that she is powerful…and frightened.” Charles rubbed his forehead and turned his chair towards the windows behind his desk. “Magneto will undoubtedly use her powers to hurt. You must get through to her.”_

_“You can count on us, professor.” Jean replied. “Where is she?”_

_“Brooklyn.” Charles replied._

_“We’ll get her on time.” Ororo assured him._

Time

Time

The word repeated in Ororo’s head as she jerked awake and fell off the ratty, moth bitten couch she’d been lying on. Sitting up, she looked around her. She was in an apartment, mostly unpainted and sparsely furnished. There was a chair in front of her that had clearly been repaired multiple times, but at the moment Ororo was more interested in the person who was sitting in it. Steven Grant Rogers was looking at her as though he’d never seen anything quite like her before.

“You alright, Miss?” He asked standing and going to help her. Ororo nodded, accepting his arm. Her head was still spinning. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her head. Outside a wind picked up. Shaking herself, she closed her eyes and it quieted; her grasp on her ability had returned.

“She has to look at your ugly mug.” Ororo turned to the opposite side of the room where James Buchanan Barnes was spooning something out of a can into a pot. “That’s enough to make anyone faint.”

“I did not faint.” Ororo said.

Barnes raised an eyebrow, and shook his head, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “’Course you didn’t, doll.” He said. He looked curiously at her clothes. Ororo felt heat rising to her face, while in her time her clothes were normal; skinny jeans, tee- shirt and felt boots with a cardigan, during the 1930’s they would have been unheard of for a woman to wear. Especially in the heat. While the temperature didn’t bother Ororo, her clothes weren’t necessarily adapted. She guessed it was the 1930’s. The fact that both Rogers and Barnes were still in Brooklyn and that Rogers clearly hadn’t been given the serum meant that America hadn’t entered the war yet.

Steve handed her a glass of water.

“Where am I?” Ororo asked, accepting the glass with a smile. Rogers blushed.

“Our place.” He said. “We couldn’t leave you in that alley and we didn’t know if you needed a hospital or where…” He broke off. Ororo understood; it would be unlikely that he’d know which hospitals in the city treated black people. Though segregation wasn’t law in the north, it didn’t mean that everything was equal.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Is there somewhere we can take you?” Barnes asked.

“We?” Ororo asked.

“Well, it’s late. No time for a dame to be out by herself.” Barnes frowned at her clothes. “Not any respectable one anyway.”

“Buck.” Steve admonished. He turned back to Ororo. “Is there someone we find for you?” He asked.

“No…I’m a bit lost actually.” Ororo looked down at her hands and sat heavily on the couch. Outside thunder rumbled. Barnes glanced outside.

“Friends, family?” Steve asked. Ororo shook her head.

“I was…traveling with a friend, but we got separated.” Her heart clenched as she thought of Jean. The Mutant they’d been sent to retrieve had clearly created a portal to the past, but there was no way for her to go back to the future. There was no way to know what had happened after she’d fallen through She might never see Jean or any of the other X-men again. Tears began falling from her eyes, just as outside rain began to fall. “Someone…gave us trouble and I don’t know what happened to her.” She thought of Magneto’s detached expression as he threatened the girl’s parents to force her to turn on Ororo and Jean and join his cause. The parents hadn’t understood what was happening; both were Chinese immigrants who spoke very little English. The girl had cried, then Ororo had begun falling.

“Is that why you’re wearing those clothes?” Barnes asked.

“I…” Ororo tried to think up an excuse that would make sense. She’d been forced into too many sci-fi marathons with Scott to not know the dangers of messing with a timeline. The longer she stayed here; the more likely she’d trip up and say something that would affect the future. And considering who she was talking to, she’d have to tread carefully. “I thought disguising myself in men’s clothes would bring less attention.” Judging from Bucky’s look at her skinny jeans he wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t push.

“That’s a lovely accent.” Steve said, “Where are you from?”

“Kenya.” Ororo said

“Kenya?” Barnes looked at her in confusion. Ororo cursed silently. Kenya didn’t exist yet; it hadn’t become an independent nation until 1963 and was currently a British colony. She couldn’t risk another slip, thankfully Steve disrupted the next couple questions.

“It’s a colony in Africa.” Steve said. Barnes shook his head and mumbled something about bookworms. Steve’s ears turned red. “I always wanted to travel.” He said, blushing in embarrassment.

“You get seasick on the subway.” Barnes muttered. Steve shot him a look before turning back to Ororo.

“How did you get here?” There was no judgement, only genuine curiosity.

“My father was from New York and he wanted to bring us back here to give us a better life.” Ororo chose her words carefully. She had to stick as close to the truth as possible to avoid being caught in a lie later on. It was important that she didn’t disrupt the time stream. That she didn’t change anything by accident. Even the smallest detail could have unforeseen ramifications. “My parents were killed when I was a child. I was adopted by an English professor who raised me.” She closed her eyes; thinking of Charles made her think of home. “He’s…gone now.” she said softly. “My friend in I were hoping for work, but…some men gave us trouble.” She paused, not wanting to go on. Steve and Barnes looked at each other, both aware of what type of trouble a woman by herself could get into.

“Are you alright?” Steve asked again, slower this time. Ororo nodded, recognizing the unspoken implication and grateful that Steve cared enough to ask.

“Do you have any place to stay in the city?” Barnes asked before his friend spoke up.

“You can stay here.” Steve said. Barnes raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “You can take my bed.” Steve continued. “And I’ll take the couch.”

“No, she can take my bed.” Barnes interrupted. “There’s enough dust on that couch to clog up your lungs. I will not have you dying on me because you’re trying to be impressive to a woman.” He shook his head and look upwards as if asking for help. “What did I ever do to be punished like this?”

“I couldn’t.” Ororo said, shaking her head. “What would people say?”

“These days, people are more focused on making sure they have enough food and not on butting into other people’s business.” Steve said.

Ororo crossed her arms and frowned at him.

“We could always say we got ourselves a maid.” Barnes suggested. Steve glared at him. “I’m not sayin’ that’s what she is; I’m sayin’ it’ll keep people from askin any dangerous questions.”

“I can’t let you get in trouble over me.” Ororo stood. “I can take care of myself.”

“But you don’t have to.” Steve said. “The city’s not safe for-“ he stopped himself. Ororo knew he was right, but she’d also had to survive by herself for years on the streets of Cairo while under the control of the Shadow king. She knew how to disappear and keep herself fed. She also could not risk disrupting the timeline. Nowhere in the history books was there mention of Steve and Bucky taking in a black woman. Her presence might seriously affect her future in ways that were too horrifying to contemplate. Steve took her long pause as an indicator of her acceptance. He got up. “So it’s settled.”

“No.” Ororo said. “I couldn’t-“

“Do you have any other place to stay?” Steve asked. She shook her head. “Then I don’t see why you have to be out on the street.”

Ororo closed her eyes, she was tired and didn’t feel like arguing. The pull of having a place to sleep was too tempting. “Only until I can get a job and place of my own.” She agreed softly. Bucky smirked.

“You almost make it sound easy.” He said.

Ororo looked at Steve in confusion. “You don’t know the first thing about me; not even my name.”

“Well we can fix that.” Steve said, holding out his hand. “Steve Rogers. And that’s James Barnes, but everyone calls him Bucky.”

Ororo took Steve’s hand and shook it. “Ororo Munroe.” She murmured.

“Ororo.” Steve repeated, testing out the unfamiliar name. As he was so close she got a chance to study him. There were few pictures of Steve Rogers before he underwent the procedure that would transform him into a super soldier and most were from his time at the training camp preparing for Project Rebirth. There were many that attributed his boyish good looks to the serum, but Ororo could see it was untrue. She also could see that he was a singularly kind man, to the point that she was questioning his judgement.

They didn’t press for more information. Bucky went out to see if any bars needed a bouncer. Steve grabbed an extra pillow and moved it to Bucky’s room.

“I don’t need my own room.” Ororo protested. “I’m fine taking the couch.”

“It’s uncomfortable.” Steve shrugged. “And this way I might actually get a night of peace and quiet without Buck bringin back a….” he broke off embarrassed. Ororo grinned, so it appeared that Bucky Barnes’ reputation as a lady’s man wasn’t unfounded.

“Friend?” She supplied, innocently. Steve flushed and nodded. His bedroom was bare, apart from a few books, a framed picture of a woman who had his eyes, and a sketch pad. There was a small twin bed and a chest of drawers, a window out to a fire escape. Walking over to it, Ororo noted a folded newspaper on the window sill. She picked it up and opened it.

“That’s yesterday’s” Steve said, dismissively. “Today’s is in the kitchen if you want it.” Ororo didn’t respond; she was transfixed by the date in the corner.

August 29th 1939. Which made that day August 30th. In less than 24 hours, Germany would invade Poland and plunge Europe into the bloodiest war in human history. A war which would cost the lives of the two men she’d met today.

“You alright?’ Steve asked, coming to stand beside her.

“Yes, just.” She closed the paper and handed it to him. “Thinking about things I lost.” Did he know? The way the events in the paper in his hand would affect him? Could he know that he’d help shape a world where every child would know his name?

Steve glanced at the picture on his dresser. “I can understand that.” He murmured, taking it. “Sleep well, Ororo.” He said, leaving the room. Ororo looked out of the window. She waited for a while until she couldn’t hear Steve moving in the other room. Then she opened the window and went out onto the fire escape. Climbing to the roof, she took a moment to center herself. 1939. She turned her head upwards and conjured a cool breeze to break through the August humidity and tried to wrap her head around the last couple of hours. 1939.

She should leave, it would be easy to disappear; Steve and Bucky might think it strange, but in a few days they’d probably forget her and move on with their lives. New York was a big city, she could disappear. Or she could find Charles. He would be a child at this point and living in Westchester. He’d see she was telling the truth and…and what? It could affect Charles’ future. How could she force a destiny so painful and dangerous on a child? He could not be the friend and mentor she needed and it would be selfish of her to attempt to pull him onto that path.

But if she left…how could she find her way back. What if the portal only opened in one place? How could she get back home if her friends managed to get to this time and she wasn’t nearby? She glared at the sky as thunder rumbled and the air felt heavy. She was terrified. Stuck in an unfamiliar time which was unaccepting of her with no foreseeable way back. She came to a decision; for now she’d stick to her plan; find a job and save enough to get her own apartment. She couldn’t stay long near Steve and Bucky. She couldn’t affect their fates; too much was at stake. The world needed Captain America.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day Ororo woke to Steve knocking at the door. 

“I brought you some clothes.” He explained. “They were my mother’s. I had to sell most of her stuff, but you never know when clothes might come in handy.” He held out the pile. “They should fit.” 

Ororo accepted the pile and gave him a smile. “Thank you.” It was a tan skirt and blouse. Steve’s mother had clearly been short and thinner. The skirt fit, but fell just above her knees and the blouse was a bit tight. She ran her hands through her hair and put it in a bun. Glancing at a small mirror on the wall, she gave herself a small smile. “It’s okay.’ She murmured. “You’re just going to go out there and look for a job during the Great Depression. How hard could that be?” she shook her head. 

She took a deep breath and left the room. Barnes was sitting at the kitchen table, glaring at a glass of water in front of him. Steve was sitting across from him. “Everything okay?” She asked, slowly. Barnes snorted. 

“The punk kicks in his sleep.” He said, looking up. “You look nice.” He added, looking her up and down. Steve knocked over his glass of water, making it spill on the table over onto Bucky’s pants. Bucky jumped back and glared at him. “Really, Rogers?” he said. Steve raised his eyebrows. Ororo chuckled. 

“Have some respect.” He said before turning back to Ororo. “You do look nice.” He added, and Ororo noted that he kept his eyes on hers and didn’t look lower. 

“So, what type of work you think you’ll find?” Bucky said. 

“Well the professor always encouraged me to be a teacher.” Ororo said. 

“So you can read and write?” Steve asked. Ororo nodded. “Good we need that down at the shop.” 

“Shop?” Ororo asked in confusion. 

“I work at a store that stocks supplies for artists working with the WPA.” Steve explained. “I’m sure we could find an opening. They pay 60 cents an hour.” 

Ororo’s look of shock must have shown on her face because Bucky nodded. 

“I know, right? I handled rotting animal carcasses for a measly 25 cents an hour while he 65 for staring at paint tins all day.” 

Inflation and depression era salaries were definitely going to take some getting used to, Ororo thought as she gave Bucky a smile. Then frowned. “Did I cost you your job?” 

“I was planning on quitin’” Bucky shrugged. “Tell her, Stevie.” 

“He was complaining about his boss.” Steve agreed. “A lot. The man’s trouble.” 

“You just gave me the perfect excuse to walk out on him.” Bucky shrugged and stood. “Well, I’m going to change these pants.” He shot a glare at Steve. “Then go down to the docks and see if they need any extra hands.” He gave them a nod. 

“So.” Steve said, turning to her. “The shop? There isn’t much work for teachers these days, especially…well I’m guessing you didn’t have any references.” 

Ororo frowned. “No, but I’m not so sure your employer would take to…someone like me.” She sat in the seat Bucky had just vacated and crossed her legs, looking down at the table.

“The manager’s a good person.” Steve said, gently. “I don’t think he’d care. Plus there’s tons o’ colored artists working for the WPA and they come in for supplies just the same.” 

Ororo shook her head. If she wanted to get out of Steve and Bucky’s lives, it wouldn’t be good for her to be working with Steve. “I think I’ll go around Harlem today to see if I can find anything.” 

Steve looked at her, curiously. “You don’t want to be around me.” He said. 

“What?” She asked. 

“You’re afraid.” Steve said. 

“Can you blame me?” Ororo asked. “I could get you into serious trouble staying here.” 

“It’s not safe in the city.” Steve said. “And the shelters are full, those that aren’t closed that is.” 

Ororo frowned. “You’re awful stubborn.” She said. 

Steve smiled. “So I’ve been told.” He said. 

“I’m resourceful and can take care of myself.” Ororo frowned. 

“I think I saw that yesterday.” Steve said. Ororo crossed her arms. He sighed. “Now I know how Bucky feels.” He muttered. “Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t stay.” 

“There are about a hundred good reasons.” Ororo said. 

“None of which matter to me.” Steve said. “You know, there’s nothing more stupid then treating someone differently because of what’s on the outside.” 

“I’m sure I don’t know what that feels like.” Ororo said sarcastically. Steve winced. 

“Sorry.” He said. He reached down to the floor and picked up one of the floorboards. Underneath was a small tin box. Putting on the table, he opened it and pulled out two dimes. “For the subway.” He said. “You’ll need it if you want to go to Harlem.” 

Ororo reached for the money gingerly. Yet another thing she owed Steve. “I feel like I keep saying thank you.” 

Steve smiled. “Well, you’re always welcome.” His fingers brushed against hers as he handed her the coins. She felt a jolt of electricity. Outside, the August humidity increased; the temperature going up noticeably. Steve cleared his throat. “So, I’ll see you at dinner.” Ororo stood and walked to the door. 

“Why?” she asked, as she opened the door. “Why are you helping me like this?” She looked back at Steve. “It would have been easier to just let me go.”

“It wouldn’t have been right.” He said without any hesitation. Ororo noted that his posture straightened and there was a distinct tone of finality to his words. Captain indeed.

“Thank you, Mr. Rogers.” She said. 

“Please, call me Steve.” He said.


	4. Chapter 4

Taking the subway was a nerve wracking experience. She barely had the chance to get over the shock of it being 10 cents a ride before summoning her courage and going in. Many people often made jokes that the New York City subway system hadn’t ever been updated, but seeing the original, Ororo was terrified. She’d wanted to take a bus, but she didn’t know the fare and didn’t know how to get to Harlem. So now she was sitting in a subway car, concentrating on her breathing and trying not to cause a rain storm that would flood the underground. 

After an interminable ride, she finally got to the 125th street station and it took all her self-control not to fly out of the subway. Taking deep breaths, she looked around. This was the Harlem of her grandmother’s childhood. The one she’d romanticized from hearing stories from the jazz age, though she realized that her grandmother had always avoided mentioning the depression era, except when Ororo had been in trouble and in need of reminding how lucky she was to live in a time where they had food on the table. Grammie had died a year before that fateful vacation in Egypt. The streets were dirty and there were many people sitting out on the stoops, looking forlorn. Many of them were children; their eyes wide. She bit her lip. The sight was familiar because of photographs in museums and textbooks which documented this era…her era, she corrected herself. She needed to become accustomed to the idea of being a part of this time. 

Taking another steadying breath, Ororo started walking. She didn’t really have a plan, but she knew she needed to find a job. As she walked, she focused on her ability. She’d reasoned that her less than complete came from emotional distress and an unfamiliarity with the current weather patterns. She simply had to practice. She’d had a similar lack of control when she was a child and it had taken her a while to be able to master her skill.

Some gave her curious looks as she made her way through the street, but for the most part people ignored her. At least until she turned a corner on 126th and a woman called out.

“Child, what did you do to your hair?” 

Ororo turned and saw an older woman looking at her from the doorway of an apartment complex. She was staring at Ororo with open curiosity. Ororo gave her a smile. 

“Nothing, Ma’am.” She said, slipping into the way she used to address Grammie. 

“Mhm.” The woman came down the steps and looked her over. “You are too young to have hair this white.” She said. “I know times are tough, but that is no excuse.” She shook her head. “What you girls think is high fashion these days I’ll never know.” 

“It was like this when I was born.” Ororo explained. 

The woman put her hands on her hips and looked her up and down. “You’re not from around here.” It wasn’t a question, but Ororo answered it anyway. 

“No Ma’am. I came here looking for work.” 

“Ain’t we all, child, ain’t we all.” The woman sighed. “Most people these days can’t afford a housekeeper. ‘specially not in this part of town. If you want though, my daughter in law is part of an agency that hires help.” 

“Not cleaning.” Ororo said. “Teaching.” 

“Teaching?” The woman looked at her with renewed interest. “Can you read and write?” Ororo nodded. Turning around the woman yelled at one of the open windows on the 3rd floor. 

“ZORA.” 

“WHAT?” Another woman, who appeared to be about 10 years older than Ororo poked her head out and looked down at the street. “Can’t I visit in peace, Ruthie?” 

“This woman says she can read.” Ruthie replied. “Bring one of your books.” 

The other woman shook her head and pulled it back into the apartment. Ororo blinked a few times to be sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. The other woman came out of the building with a book under her arm and Ororo had to fight from squealing. Zora Neale Hurston held out her hand and introduced herself. 

“Ororo Munroe.” She said, trying to keep her hand from shaking. 

“Zora went to Barnard College.” Ruthie explained. “She lived here for a while, but moved to Jersey.” She shot Zora a look that the other woman ignored. 

“Ororo?” She asked. 

“I was born in…Africa.” She said, not wanting to have to hear about Kenya’s current colonial status. Zora raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t live there long.” Ororo continued. 

“Well,” Zora said, holding out the book. “Let’s see what you can do.” 

The book was a copy of W.E.B. Du Bois’ The Souls of Black Folk. Ororo took it and opened it to the first page, reading it aloud. After a few minutes, Zora nodded. “She can definitely read, quite well actually.” She smiled over at Ruthie. “At least it’ll get you to stop hounding me, Mz Jones.” 

“Well,” Ruthie smiled at Ororo. “Looks like we got ourselves a new teacher.” She thanked Zora and tugged Ororo inside. “The school we sent the kids to closed down and the closest one is too far to send my grand kids.” She explained. “There’s about 4 other children in the building who are in the same situation. Think you could teach them to read and write? If we pool our money together we can pay you 50 cents an hour.” 

“That’s…that’s too kind.” Ororo said as they went up the stairs to the 4th floor. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me yet.” Ruthie Jones smiled. “You haven’t met my son’s children yet.” 

 

 

 

Mrs. Jones’ grandchildren were high spirited, but Ororo had experience teaching children with the ability to summon fire at will among other talents, so these were a welcome challenge. Masie was 4 and her brother, Andre, was 6. Mrs. Jones had explained that they were her eldest son’s children and she took care of them while their parents went out to find work. 

“They find whatever they can.” She explained that evening as Ororo sat at the kitchen table. Mrs. Jones was preparing dinner and would not hear Ororo’s protests of not wanting to impose. She’d been sitting in on the lesson in the living room that day and had been highly impressed with the way Ororo managed to keep the children in line without being harsh with them. 

“Where are your folks, child?” she asked. 

“They’re…gone.” Ororo said, quietly. 

“Ah.” Mrs. Jones said, pausing.

“It was a long time ago.” Ororo continued. 

She turned and looked at her, a sad expression on her face. “You married?” she asked. Ororo bit back a laugh. 

“No.” She said. 

“Why not?” Mrs. Jones fixed her with a calculating look. “You’re what? 25?

“24.” Ororo corrected. 

“And you’re pretty enough.” 

“Just haven’t found the right man yet.” Ororo said, shrugging. 

“Waiting for a rich man?” Mrs. Jones asked, a teasing glint in her eyes. Ororo shook her head. 

“Are there any available rich men these days?” Ororo asked, causing the older woman to laugh. 

“True.” She agreed. 

“Since that’s unreasonable, I might as well like the man I marry, if that ever happens.” Ororo shook her head. “I’d rather be poor with someone I love than rich with someone who makes me miserable.” She bit her lip, worried she’d said something too shocking. 

“So where are you living?” Mrs. Jones said, choosing to ignore Ororo’s accidental outburst of Feminism before the creation of Feminism. 

“Brooklyn.” Ororo said, not giving any real details and hoping she wouldn’t be pressed for specifications. Before Mrs. Jones could respond the door to the apartment opened and a young man about Ororo’s age entered. 

“Gabriel Jones.” Mrs. Jones put her hands on her hips. “Where have you been for the last two days? I’ve been worried sick about you.” 

“Ma,” Gabriel Jones grinned; his face lit up and his dark eyes sparkled. “I guess that means you don’t want any of this.” He put a package on the kitchen counter and unwrapped a large piece of ham. 

Mrs. Jones’ eyes widened. “Where?” She asked, coming closer, looking at it as though she wasn’t sure if it was real. 

“I’ve been cleaning down at Penn station.” Gabriel explained. “A shipment came in and most of it was rotten… and-“ 

His mother’s expression darkened. “Are you telling me you dug through the garbage for this?” She asked. 

Gabriel’s proud smile slid off his face and he looked at the ground in shame. 

“Well…” He began. 

Mrs. Jones sighed, shaking her head. “I guess we’ve got no choice.” She murmured. “And it would be a shame to let it go to waste.” She looked over at Ororo. “This is my youngest, Gabriel.” 

Gabriel looked at her with interest as he held out his hand. “Only Ma calls me Gabriel.” He said. “Everyone else calls me Gabe.” 

Ororo shook his hand. “Ororo Munroe.” She said, a little overwhelmed. The as only black member of the Howling Commandoes, Gabe Jones, had been a personal hero to her as a child. Here she was, in his kitchen shaking his hand, with his mother after having taught his niece and nephew. 

“She’s teaching your brother’s kids.” Mrs. Jones explained. Gabe raised an eyebrow. 

“And you’re still here?” he asked. “I guess some people will do any job these days.” 

“They’re not so bad.” Ororo protested. 

“Ororo, is staying for dinner.” Mrs. Jones said. Gabe smirked. 

“Whether she wants to or not.” He said, ducking his mother as she swatted at him. He left the room to wash up. Ororo helped Mrs. Jones in the kitchen. Gabe came in a couple minutes later and turned on a small radio. A jazz program was on, but within four minutes of listening to the music, the program was interrupted. 

“We are hearing reports from overseas that Germany has invaded Poland. Though we don’t have all the details, it appears that German troops opened fire on a border town in the early hours of the morning.” 

The war had begun. Ororo glanced over at Gabe. He was sitting next to the radio, his shoulders hunched, his hands clasped in front of him almost as though he was in prayer. What was going through his mind? Had he already decided to fight? He seemed to sense her eyes on him and he looked up. “Think it’ll come to war, Mz Munroe?” he asked. 

I know it will. Ororo thought. “Lots of people will be hurt if they aren’t stopped.” She responded. 

“That’s enough war talk.” Mrs. Jones snapped. “Turn that off an call the children so we can eat. We don’t want to send Ms. Ororo back too late.” 

Gabe shut off the radio and stood. Sticking his head out into the hall, he shouted for the children. He turned back to his mother with a bright smile as she looked at him with irritation. 

“What?” he said, innocently. 

“Don’t get fresh with me.” she said, waving a wooden spoon at him. “If I had wanted to yell for them, I’d have done it myself.” 

“What’s the point of me going all the way over there only to come straight back?” Gabe retorted. Ororo giggled, covering her mouth and disguising it as a cough when Mrs. Jones turned towards her. The two children came rushing into the kitchen. 

“Uncle Gabe, uncle Gabe.” They shouted, jumping up and down and pushing to be closest to him. 

“Sit down, little monsters.” He growled. “Or I’ll have you for dinner.” 

“No you won’t.” Masie crossed her arms and looked up at him. Gabe took her arm and knelt down, opening his mouth as if preparing to bite her. Masie squealed and pulled her arm back, ducking behind her brother. 

Dinner was loud as the two children dominated the conversation, asking Ororo a million questions and not waiting for her to give them answers before asking a million more. Ororo glanced outside and noted that the sun was getting low. 

“I should really be getting back.” She said, helping Mrs. Jones carry the plates to the sink. The other woman nodded and began wrapping up a portion of the extra ham. Ororo shook her head. “No, I couldn’t you’ve already done so much for me.” 

“Don’t be silly.” Mrs. Jones said, ending the discussion. 

“There’s no point in arguing.” Gabe added. He and his mother shared a look and he nodded before saying. “Can I accompany you to the subway, Mz. Munroe?” 

“I-“ Ororo began, then relented. “Thank you, Mr. Jones.” 

They walked silently to the station, no one paying them much mind. Ororo’s heart hammered in her chest; Gabe Jones was walking her back to subway which she was taking to go back to Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. 

“Thank you.” She said at the entrance to the subway. 

“See you, tomorrow.” Gabe said, smiling. She took a deep breath and braced herself for her descent into the underground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some historical notes I feel I should clarify. 
> 
> In the previous chapter Steve mentions that he works for a store that supplies materials for the WPA  
> The WPA (Works Progress Association) was a government funded program created under the New Deal during the Great Depression. It was meant to stimulate artistic creativity. Artists from multiple different skill sets and backgrounds were funded through this program, hence Steve's point about people of color being included in the clientele of the store he works in.
> 
> Zora Neale Hurston Is an author who was a major figure in the Harlem Renaissance. She's the author of "Their Eyes Were Watching God". She also worked for the WPA. (Yes, a black woman wrote as a government funded author in the 1930's. How awesome is that?) As she points out, she was living in New Jersey in the 30's, but she did often come to Harlem. 
> 
> Gabe Jones is a member of the Howling Commandos and I have taken a few liberties with his background in including him here. All his family members here are made up. 
> 
> Hope you guys are enjoying this story!


	5. Chapter 5

Steve wrenched the door open a split second after she knocked. A look of relief crossed his features as he ushered her in. “We were worried you’d gotten lost in the fog.” He explained, glancing out at the billowing whiteness. Ororo fought back a smile. The fog was her doing. Not wanting to deal with unnecessary harassment or questions, she’d conjured it up in order to travel unbothered. 

“I got a job.” She announced. “Teaching in Harlem.” She held out the package of food Mrs. Jones had given her along with 20 cents to pay Steve back for the subway money. 

“Is that…” Bucky came over, drawn by the smell of food. “Oh that smells good.” He grinned. “We are definitely keeping you.” He took it and went to the kitchen to grab a plate. 

“Buck.” Steve admonished, shaking his head. “You already ate.” 

“Yeah, but it wasn’t this good.” Bucky retorted. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you some.” He took a bite. “Actually I changed my mind; you’re not getting any.”

“Greedy jerk.” Steve looked down at the money Ororo was holding out to him and shook his head. “Keep it.” 

“Uh uh.” Ororo said, putting the coins in Steve’s shirt pocket and patting it before moving further into the apartment. “I intend to pull my weight around here.” She said, and threw a smile over her shoulder at Steve. “And I think you’ll find I can be pretty stubborn as well.” Steve gaped at her, placed his hand on the pocket, then shook himself slightly before grinning.

Ororo looked at Bucky who was wearing a suit with his hair combed back. “You look fancy.” She remarked. 

“I’m going downtown to see if any bars need bouncers.” He said, taking another bite. Then he glanced towards the door. “Though the fog might ruin my plans.” He muttered. Steve made a grab for the food, but Bucky pushed it away from him. 

“Really?” Ororo asked, keeping her tone mild. “It looked like it was clearing up.” 

Bucky snorted. “Sure thing, Ororo.” He said, pushing back from the table he stood and walked to the door. “We’ll see about tha…” he’d pulled it open only to find that the fog was gone. The confident smirk slid off his face and he stuck his head out and looked around, as if expecting it to be lying in wait. “Huh?” he said. “I guess I’m working.” He turned to Steve. “You sure you don’t want to tag along?” 

“Not exactly bouncer material, Buck.” Steve said, shaking his head at his friend, packing up the food and shoving it into the ice box for later. 

“You could meet someone.” Bucky suggested. Steve snorted. 

“Cuz that’s what I need.” He said. “To be rejected by every available woman in the city.” 

“Just…don’t listen the radio all night.” Bucky sighed. “You’ll just depress yourself.” He nodded at Ororo . “You kids behave, now.” he grinned as Steve flushed before he shut the door behind him. 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Jerk.” He muttered, walking over to the radio. “Did you hear what happened in Poland?” He asked, his fingers fidgeting and his demeanor nervous. Ororo nodded. 

“The woman who I work for has a radio and I heard it while she was making dinner.” She murmured. 

“They say the president’s going to address the nation soon.” Steve continued. Ororo’s eyes widened. A fireside chat. Her inner history nerd squealed in joy. She was going to be witness to an actual fireside chat. 

“Lots of people are going to be worried.” She said, keeping her tone calm. 

“More like lots of people don’t want us involved.” Steve said, playing with the dials. He sounded slightly annoyed. 

“What do you think?” Ororo asked, waiting with baited breath. Steve paused, looking down at the radio. 

“I think…” he said slowly, turning to look at her. “That what’s happening over there is wrong…and that it won’t be easy, but something needs to be done.” Ororo looked at him intently. For a second it appeared that Steve’s small frame fell away and she could see the determination in his eyes. He sat at the table. “So.” He asked, “how’s your new job?” 

Ororo grinned and told him about meeting Zora Neale Hurston. She explained about the closed school and how she’d be in charge of making sure the children in the neighborhood would be able to read and write. Steve listened, smiling. “What?” she asked. 

“You seem so excited.” He shrugged. 

“I like teaching.” Ororo said. 

“Because of the professor who adopted you?” Steve prompted. Ororo looked down at the table. 

“Yes.” She said softly, not wanting to talk about Charles. In fact the entire conversation was dangerous; she shouldn’t be allowing herself to get close to Steve. “I’m a bit tired.” She stood, yawning. “I should get some sleep; I have an early start tomorrow.” She walked quickly to the door. As she closed the door, she caught a flash of disappointment on Steve’s face. Leaning against the door she took a deep breath. She knew Steve was trying to be kind, but she could not afford to meddle with his future. She couldn’t allow herself to care.


	6. Chapter 6

The days took on a routine. She’d take the subway to Harlem to teach in Mrs. Jones’ living room. The number of children had gone up to 6. They were various ages between 4 and 10. She wondered in amusement what Charles would think if he could see her teaching students with small slates and chalk instead of pens and paper. After school ended, Mrs. Jones would get her to eat dinner with them with a frequent complaint of “you’re too skinny, child.” Then Gabe would walk her to the subway. 

“Do you live alone?” Gabe asked. Ororo raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s just…” he said, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I worry about what happens to you once I leave you here. I just don’t like the thought of you being alone.” 

Ororo gave him a smile. “I have 2 roommates.” She assured him. 

“They as pretty as you?” Gabe asked. Ororo laughed. 

“I…don’t think they’re your type.” She said, thinking of Steve and Bucky. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Gabe.” She waved and rushed into the subway. 

One nerve-wracking ride later she was making her way back to the apartment. It was February and the temperature was cold. She’d had to stuff her shoes with newspaper and sewn scraps of fabric into the lining of the jacket Bucky had found her. Though the boys didn’t know that cold didn’t affect her, she had to maintain appearances. And the newspaper helped keep her feet dry. She turned the corner, and noticed that someone was sitting on the stairs. Closer inspection told her it was Steve. 

It took all her self-control for her not to fly to him. “Are you CRAZY?” she asked, noting the way he was shivering. “You’ll catch your death.” She raised the temperature around him. 

“I’ve only been out here for about 5 minutes.” Steve said, stubbornly. Ororo took off her jacket and put it over his shoulders, ignoring his protests. Dragging him to his feet, she turned towards the door. “Wait.” Steve said, putting his hand on her arm. “I’m out here because…Buck’s….” He flushed red. “Well he’s got….he’s entertaining.” 

“And he sent you outside?” Ororo found that hard to believe. “You could have just ducked into your room.” 

“I wanted to warn you.” Steve said. “and…”

“Make sure she didn’t see me so she wouldn’t freak out because of the black woman in your apartment.” Ororo murmured. 

“No.” Steve frowned. “He’s really loud.” He coughed. Ororo rolled her eyes. 

“I don’t care about interrupting Casanova.” She muttered. “You are not dying on me, Rogers.” She opened the door and pulled Steve inside. Dragging him over to the room she slept in, she sat him on the bed and wrapped him in the blankets. Going into the kitchen, she put some water to boil. Steve had been right, she mused as a groan followed by a giggle came from behind Bucky’s door; he was loud. Closing her eyes, Ororo raised the temperature in the room Steve was in. The water boiled. She grabbed the tea tin and made Steve a large cup. Bringing it back into the room, she shut the door and went to stand next to Steve. 

“Open up.” she ordered. Steve measured the look in her eyes and decided it would be best not to argue with her. He swallowed a huge gulp. Ororo put the cup on the bedside table. More noises came from Bucky’s room causing Steve to look away from Ororo. 

“What?” She asked, slightly amused. 

“It’s just…you shouldn’t be hearing that.” Steve muttered. Ororo crossed her arms. 

“And you shouldn’t have been outside trying to catch the plague.” She retorted. She gave him a small smile to try and take the sting out of her words. Steve’s worry about manners while he might be getting sick was adorably misplaced. She frowned at the wall that adjoined with Bucky’s room. Living at the X Mansion had meant that she’d been subjected to more than her share of awkward late night sound effects; especially when Logan came for one of his visits…which gave her an idea. 

Glancing over at Steve she smiled as she noted that he’d turned away from her in embarrassment. She turned back to the wall and let out a small gasp. Steve’s head snapped up as he faced her. 

“What are you-“ He asked. 

“Oh.” She groaned. “Oh…Steve.” She winked at him as he gaped at her. There was a crash in the other room. Ororo put her hands on the bed frame and moved it slightly making it creak and followed that up with a breathy exclamation of “Yes Steve….ah YES.” 

The door banged open and Bucky stood in the entry. His underwear was on backwards, his hair wild, face covered in lipstick and the scent of cheap perfume clung to him. He took in the sight of Steve wrapped in blankets and Ororo grinning at him from the end of the bed. 

“Something we can help you with, James?” She asked, nonchalantly looking down at her nails. Steve let out a small strangled squeak. 

“No…just.” Bucky cleared his throat. “I um…” He turned and rushed out, closing the door behind him. Ororo turned and looked over at Steve. His head was peeking out of the top of the wrap of blankets. He was gaping openmouthed at her. She winced; she’d just mimicked an orgasm in front of a future national icon. She briefly wondered if Logan would have been proud of her when Steve burst out laughing. She smiled, but the expression was wiped from her face the second Steve’s laughter turned to wracking coughs. 

She went to sit next to him, patting him on the back and urging him to drink more tea. 

“Urgh.” Steve frowned at it. “It’s disgusting.” 

“True.” Ororo said, “but it will help.”

“Wish we had sugar.” Steve mumbled. 

“Actually honey works best to soothe a sore throat.” Ororo said. 

“Well I wouldn’t mind some of that either.” Steve said, sipping the tea and pulling a face. “Sugar, honey and cake.” 

Ororo shook her head; they played this game often. What would they like to eat if they had the money? Bucky usually wished for steak and Steve often agreed with him, though often wishing for freshly baked bread. Ororo usually said salad or an apple, which would get her endless teasing from Bucky who thought it was ridiculous. (“come on Ro, if you’re gonna wish for something at least make it count.”) Tonight it appeared Steve was indulging his imaginary sweet tooth. 

“What do you want, Ororo?” He asked. 

“Chocolate.” She said simply. Steve nodded. Then frowned at her. 

“Aren’t you cold?” He asked. “When you’re in here by yourself, I mean? I used to have to go sleep in Buck’s room when the temperature got too low.” He pulled the blankets tighter. Ororo rubbed his back and shook her head. 

“The cold doesn’t bother me.” She smirked. “Steve Rogers, was that an invitation to share your bed?” 

Steve turned a violent shade of red and began coughing again. Ororo cursed herself. She should have known better than to tease him. She’d be capable of having him rupture a lung and then the world would be robbed of Captain America because of an illtimed sexual innuendo. 

“I wouldn’t be any use to you.” Steve muttered when he finally stopped coughing. “I’m always cold, but Buck’s pretty warm.” As if to prove his point the woman in the other room let out a high pitched noise that made both of them cover their mouths to smother their giggles. 

“I think I’ll pass on James’ method of warming.” Ororo said. Steve’s teeth chattered slightly. She sighed and shifted so she was next to him. Steve raised an eyebrow, in confusion then the second one shot up in alarm as Ororo opened his cocoon of blankets and pulled him closer before wrapping both of them tightly in them. 

“What are-“

“You’re cold, I’m warm and we’re probably going to be stuck in here for a while.” She glared at the wall to Bucky’s room. “And I will not listen to your teeth chattering.” She tucked him securely under her arm. Steve stayed stiff, almost as if he was willing none of his body to touch her. “Steve, it’s not like we’re going to have to get married.” She said, laughing at his uncomfortableness. “Besides, didn’t you just say that you and Bucky share a bed for warmth; how is this different?” 

“Bucky’s not a beautiful woman.” Steve said in an undertone, refusing to look at her. Ororo felt a flutter in her stomach and squashed it down. 

“Afraid you won’t be able to control yourself, Rogers?” She challenged. Steve still refused to look at her. She sighed. “Steve, if you want me to me to leave you alone, then I’ll get out of the blankets, but believe me; there’s not much you could do that would embarrass me.”

“Really?” Steve sounded skeptical. 

She nodded. “There were 3 boys living with me when the professor adopted me.” She explained. “So essentially I had 3 brothers.” She smiled. “So I’ve seen and heard it all.” 

“Is that how you knew that whole…” He glanced at the wall before whispering “act, would work.” 

“You mean faking the orgasm?” she asked. Steve’s mouth dropped open. “That trick was particularly useful whenever Logan brought home a girl.” 

Steve tilted his head. “You never said you had brothers.” He said. 

“Well.” She looked away; how to explain away this piece of information. “After the professor died, it became difficult for us to all continue living together….I was the only black person in the group.” She bit her lip. Steve took her hand under the blankets. 

“You don’t need to explain.” He said softly. Inching closer he added, “and you are really warm, so if you’ll forgive me, I really don’t want to turn into an icicle.” 

He put his head on her shoulder and relaxed. Ororo pulled him closer and cradled him in her arms. He was really small. She closed her eyes listening to his ragged breathing and trying not to hear the noises from their roommate’s bedroom. 

“Tell me about Kenya.” Steve murmured. 

“Hmm?” Ororo asked. 

“Kenya.” He said. “I’m probably never going to be able to go there. What’s it like?” 

So she told him about her village. About how her family had been a line of priestesses, though she left out the part about her abilities. She told him about the heat of the savanna and the animals that lived there. The river she played in as a toddler. How the memories had taken on an almost mythical quality since the loss of her parents. As she spoke she knew she was building something between her and Steve that was dangerous. Every word further cemented a bond between them. It was a connection that wouldn’t easily be broken, but she craved that connection. She trusted and loved with her whole heart and she’d missed that sense of family she had with the X-men. 

Steve listened without comment. Soon his head grew heavy and his breathing evened out. She ran her fingers through his hair; the fine blond strands soft to her touch. He was sleeping, leaving Ororo alone with her guilt and the knowledge that she’d begun something she had no means of stopping. 

 

 

 

 

Later that night after Bucky had sent home the woman in his room, he went to check on Ororo and Steve. The two were asleep, wrapped in blankets, clinging to each other. Steve lying on Ororo, his head pressed into the crook of her neck. Bucky debated waking them, but decided to let them be.

“I just hope the two of you know what you’re doing.” He said softly as he closed the door.


	7. Chapter 7

Winter turned to spring and eventually to summer. It had almost been a full year since Ororo had been dropped into the past. She’d regained control of her powers, practicing mastering them in secret every night on the roof of Steve and Bucky’s building. Her class had grown to 10 students. With the three salaries coming in from Bucky’s odd jobs, her teaching, and Steve’s job at the store life at the apartment began getting easier. When Steve got sick, it no longer came down to a choice between food and medication. It was the end of June, 1940. Paris had been invaded and the French had no choice but to surrender to the Germans. Nights at the apartment were spent in front of the radio, alternating between listening to reports coming in from Europe and music when things got to be too heavy. 

Steve was beginning to become agitated, angry that the United States was continuing its neutral stance in the face of such blatant injustices. While Bucky wasn’t as vocal as him, Ororo knew he agreed. 

“What’s it going to take?” Steve said, one night slamming his hand on the table in frustration. It was June 30th and Germany had just invaded the Channel Islands. “They’ve got France, Poland, Norway…” He broke off glaring at the radio. “And now they’re moving towards England. Are we seriously not going to do anything?”

“Germany hasn’t threatened the US.” Bucky said quietly. “They said they wouldn’t attack us if we stayed out of it.” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Steve growled. “We shouldn’t only care about war if it directly affects us. Plus I seem to remember them saying they’d stay out of Poland and we all know how that turned out.” 

“I agree with you, Steve, but unless you’ve got a direct connection to Roosevelt himself there’s not much you can do.” Bucky grumbled. 

“That wouldn’t do much good either.” Ororo said. “Only Congress can declare war and most people in the government don’t favor US involvement.” 

Steve huffed and crossed his arms. “It’s not fair.” He said softly. Ororo stood and grabbed the plates. It was her night to take care of the dishes. Bucky went out to see if he could score any night work while Steve continued to glare at the table. 

“I agree with you too.” Ororo said softly. “It’s wrong that we waited as long as we did…have.” She corrected. Steve didn’t seem to notice her slip. She turned her attention to the plates. After a few minutes where the only noise was her cleaning and drying the plates he finally spoke up.

“I want to fight.” 

Ororo put down the rag she’d been using on the plates and turned slowly. Steve was looking at her as if daring her to contradict him. 

“I know.” she replied. He seemed taken aback by her sincerity; probably expecting her to come up with a million reasons for him not to go. He nodded.

“So how’s work?” He asked, trying to change the subject. Standing he came next to her and took the rag from her hands and finished drying the dishes.

“Good.” She said, leaning against the wall. “The kids are progressing.”

“And Mrs. Jones?” Steve asked. Ororo had told him about her, though she’d been careful not to mention Gabe. She cracked her neck and smiled. “Still the same. She keeps asking me to bring by the girls I live with.” 

Steve laughed. The people in Harlem had assumed she had two female roommates and she hadn’t done anything to deny that assertion. She shook her head. “I think she finally figured out that I’m not interested in being married to her son. So she wants new victims.” She froze as Steve became extra focused on the plate in his hand.

“Son?” He asked, mildly, but Ororo wasn’t fooled. 

“Yeah.” Ororo said, trying to divert the situation. Steve and Gabe were supposed to meet on a battle ground in France. She could not have them interacting before that. “He’s nice, but I’m not interested.” 

“In him or in marriage?” Steve asked. 

Ororo bit her lip. “Both” she said, pushing away from the wall. “Anyways it doesn’t matter. Summer vacation is starting for the kids after tomorrow and I won’t see them again until September.” She moved away from the kitchen. 

 

 

 

 

 

The next day, she was walking to the subway with Gabe only to find Bucky waiting by the station. She turned to Gabe. “Thanks, Gabe, but I’m fine from here.”

“Aw, come on Mz. Munroe.” He said, teasing her with the title the students used for her. “It’s your first night of freedom; I was going to try to convince you to go out with me. Maybe see some music.” 

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I have plans tonight.” She said. Bucky was looking at them with feigned boredom, but Ororo wasn’t fooled; he was assessing Gabe as a potential threat. Gabe glanced at the subway station. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go there just yet.” He murmured, shooting Bucky a pointed look. “And even if you just turned me down, I don’t think he’s going to be as understanding.” 

Ororo felt nauseated. She understood Gabe’s meaning all too well. It wasn’t uncommon for young women of color to be raped by white men and the victims never got justice. Bucky’s presence next to the station was worrying Gabe. How could she explain to him that she knew Bucky wasn’t a threat? Gabe moved closer and put his arm around her waist; a signal to Bucky that she wasn’t available. All pretense of disinterest fell from Bucky’s face as he watched them. Then he turned and went into the subway.

Gabe walked Ororo into the station and went onto the platform with her. Bucky boarded the first train in the direction of Brooklyn. Gabe stayed with her until the next one came. She forced a smile. “Thank you.” She said, waving at him as the doors closed and the train pulled away from the station. Sitting down, she closed her eyes and exhaled. What had Bucky been doing there? And what would he tell Steve? 

When she got back to the apartment he was waiting for her. 

“So that’s the reason Steve spent the whole night sulking.” He said. “Don’t worry, he’s not here.” 

“James.” 

“I get it; you’re you and he’s him, but Stevie’s one of the best guys…hell the best man I know. If you’re going toss him out with the trash, at least have the decency not to lead him on.” Bucky growled. 

“I’m not.” Ororo said. 

“Oh really?” Bucky said. “Is that why I found the two of you cuddled up that night after you put on that very impressive vocal performance? Do you think I don’t notice the way the two of you look at each other? The way you awkwardly bump into each other and turn red. That you’ve all but given up on buying that apartment you were so ready to abandon us for once you got enough money?” 

It was true. She’d slowly forgotten about the plan to move out, though it had been a conscious choice. “James.” She began. 

“I know about the sketchbook.” He said softly. Ororo froze. Steve had let it slip that he wished he could have a sketchbook of his own instead of handing them over to other artists. During one of his allergy attacks in May she’d ducked down to the art store and bought him one with the intention of surprising him with it on his birthday in 3 days.

“James.” She said. 

“He’s a good guy, Ro.” Bucky said. 

“Believe me, I know that.” She said. “but…” 

There was a knock at the door. Bucky walked to open it. “Punk, did you forget your key….” He trailed off. A police officer was standing at the door. 

“Evening.” He said, tipping his hat. He looked inside the apartment and fixed Ororo with a barely concealed look of contempt. “Can I come in?” He said. 

Bucky blocked the entrance by leaning against it. “Can I ask why, Officer?” he said. 

“Been hearing rumors about….unnatural happenings here.” The officer said, looking at Ororo. 

“Unnatural?” Bucky asked, gritting his teeth. 

“What’s the nigra to you, Barnes?” The officer growled. Bucky looked over his shoulder at Ororo. The gesture seemed casual, but when his eyes met hers there was a plea for her to remain quiet. Ororo breathed slowly, the sky outside darkening as large storm clouds rolled in. 

“She cleans.” Bucky said shrugging. “Nothing unnatural about wantin a clean place.” 

“So she isn’t living here and warming your bed?” 

Bucky’s shoulders tightened. “If that were true, it wouldn’t be against the law.” 

A thunderclap made both men jump. Ororo closed her eyes, trying to get her emotions under control. 

“True, but there’s those that would talk.” The officer said. “And those that would do more than talk.” 

“Is that a threat, officer?” Bucky growled. 

“It’s an offer.” The policeman said. “If you would be willing to share your…cleaning lady,” he looked Ororo up and down, “then I’m sure I could dispel any rumors going around.” 

Bucky ground his teeth. “I thought it was unnatural.” He said softly, his crossed arms tightening as though he were trying to hold himself back from attacking the other man. 

“Sleep on it.” The officer said, before turning and walking away. Bucky slammed the door. 

“He’s lucky Steve’s not here.” He growled. “The punk would have tried to strangle him and for once I wouldn’t have held him back.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Hell, I’d have helped.” 

Ororo was shaking. Outside winds picked up and rain began to pour as lightning struck and thunder roared. 

“Hey, hey.” Bucky said, leading her to the couch, all his anger at her from a few minutes before seemingly gone as a result of the police officer. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, Ro”

“He just threatened to lynch you if you didn’t let him rape me.” She said, the words sounding even more horrible spoken aloud. Bucky flinched back. 

“Like I said, we aren’t doing anything illegal.” Bucky said. It was true; New York was one of the few states that had no laws against interracial marriage. But the chasm between what was legal and what was socially accepted was very wide.

“That won’t matter to them, and you know it.” Ororo closed her eyes. “How could I have been so stupid?” she hissed. 

“Ro.” Bucky said, putting a hand on her leg. The door opened and Steve walked in. 

“Did anyone make dinner because I’m star-“ he froze as he saw Ororo’s stricken expression and Bucky kneeling in front of her. “What happened?” he growled. 

“Someone made a stupid threat.” Bucky said. 

“It wasn’t stupid.” Ororo said. “He was serious and –“

“It doesn’t matter.” Bucky said, cutting her off. “We can just go to the police station and –“

Ororo let out a humorless laugh. “You think they’ll listen to you?” She said, “do you think they’ll turn on one of their own by the word of a man who’s suspected of having sex with a ….” She closed her eyes. 

Steve’s fists clenched. “What happened?” He said slowly. Bucky explained the situation. Steve listened, then nodded stiffly. 

“It’s going to be okay.” He said, sitting next to Ororo. She looked at him in disbelief

“How can you possibly believe that?”   
“Because he’s not a real police officer.” He said simply. “I saw him walking away from the building and taking off his uniform. It’s a fake.” He looked at Ororo. “He probably saw you and well…” He looked at the ground. “You’re kinda striking which is what made him come up with that excuse.” Ororo clutched her stomach. Stave sat next to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be okay.” He said. “When he comes by tomorrow, Buck and I will give him a piece of our minds. Show him what it means to mess with our girl.”

“You mean I’ll do it and you’ll watch from the sidelines until I let you have the last punch.” Bucky muttered. Steve glared at him. “Though from the looks of things, that storm might take of him for us.” Bucky glanced outside. 

Ororo closed her eyes and willed the rain away. She leaned her head on Steve’s shoulder. 

“They’ll be more.” She said, coming to the horror filled realization. “He won’t be the last.” She pulled away from Steve, the comfort of his shoulder not enough to overcome the guilt she felt at allowing herself to get closer to him. “He won’t be the last.” She said quietly getting to her feet. 

“Ro, where are you going?” Bucky asked. 

“You can’t go out there.” Steve said. 

Ororo ignored them, their protests growing faint. She clenched her fists and walked out of the apartment. It took a few minutes, but she tracked the false police officer. He was standing at a street corner cat calling two girls that couldn’t be more than 16. Ororo’s blood boiled. She darkened the sky again. The man ducked into a side alley in order to avoid the down pour she caused. She followed him. 

He jumped as she cleared her throat and turned to look at her. His face contorting into a perverse smile. “Couldn’t stay away, could you?” He asked. 

“You think you could handle me?” She asked softly. “Do you have any idea who I am? What I am?” She tilted her head and her eyes went white. The sky turned almost black. Lightning struck the ground right next to the man. 

“What?” he said, tripping over his feet in an attempt to get away from her. He backed into the alley way, trembling in fear. 

“Among my people, I am considered a goddess.” Ororo said. “And you threatened my friends. Tell me; what happens to those who anger a goddess?” 

“I’m sorry.” He said, falling to his knees. 

“Who else knows?” She demanded. 

“Nobody.” He whimpered, covering his head.

“Do not lie to me.” She demanded, lightning coming down to strike next to him. 

“No one, I swear I…” The man crumpled to his feet, covering his face. “I’m sorry goddess. I won’t hurt you. I won’t come near you again. I won’t let anyone come near you again.” 

Ororo lowered her hands and felt a swooping loss of energy as she released the clouds from her command. She stepped back and turned in the alley. A small figure stood at the end. Though the sun was still obscured by clouds and the light rain blurred her vision, there was no mistaking who it was. 

“Steve.” Ororo said softly. 

He looked at her in confusion and fear. “Ororo….what did you do?”


	8. Chapter 8

Steve’s eyes were wide and he looked around them. Because of the strom most people had sought refuge inside. “Not…here.” He said. “We need to get out of the street.” They walked back to the apartment in silence, Ororo’s heart sank. Someone not being prejudiced against African Americans in this time was rare enough, but no one knew about Mutants. She was going to lose her only friend. She was hurt and furious. Clutching her hands into fists, Ororo gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to lose Steve, but at the same time it might be necessary. She was getting too close to him and perhaps this pain she was feeling would be worth it if it kept history from being too severely damaged. Maybe she should leave now, it might be easier. But a part of her wanted to explain to Steve. To have him understand who she was, to let go of some of the secrets she held and the lies she told. So she followed. 

Bucky wasn’t at the apartment. 

“We went out to look for you.” Steve explained. “He went one way and…” he winced. “I don’t know why, but I …I followed the clouds.” He motioned towards the couch Ororo shook her head. 

“I’d rather stand.” She said softly. 

Steve nodded and stayed standing as well. Running his hands nervously through his rain soaked hair he looked at the ground and said, “That man…he called you…goddess.” 

“He wasn’t the first.” Ororo murmured. 

“Are you?” Steve asked, looking up; his eyes meeting hers. “Some kind of…angel?” 

“Angel?” Ororo almost laughed. Shaking her head she looked at the ground. “No. I’m human, but….” She thought of the way Jean described Mutant abilities. “I just have a little something extra.” She looked at the ground. “I told you the women in my family are priestesses…but we’re more than that. I’m not a goddess.” She took a deep breath. Steve was listening to her with bated breath. “I’m a weather witch. The ability is passed from mother to daughter in my family line. I, like my mother before me and her mother before that, can ride the winds and control the thunder and rain.” She stopped. “This is the part where you run screaming.” She murmured. 

Steve sat heavily down on the couch and rubbed his head. “Would you have hurt him?” Steve asked. “The man in the alley.”

Ororo shook her head. “I do not take the lives of others.” She said. “I only intended to scare him enough to have him leave us…you alone. I did not wish for him to threaten you on my account.” 

“So you can control the weather.” Steve said. He looked at her curiously. Ororo realized that he didn’t appear scared of her. “What else can you do?” 

She hesitated before saying. “Fly.” 

His eyes lit up. “Are there more people like you?” he asked. Ororo thought of Charles who was somewhere beginning to understand his ability. She thought of a young Jewish boy in a concentration camp who was on the cusp of learning that he could manipulate metal. Then she remembered; the man in front of her would liberate that concentration camp. He had to. She moved away from Steve. 

“I can’t tell you.” 

“Why not?” Steve asked. “I think you know me well enough to know that I would never judge someone based on-“

“Steve it’s more complicated than that.” Ororo turned away. 

“Then explain it to me.” He demanded. “I know you’ve been holding something back. I know you haven’t been honest, but after what I saw tonight how can you still think that you can keep things from me?” 

“Because there’s too much at stake.” Ororo said, refusing to look at him. “I have…tried so hard to keep myself from you. To stop myself from caring and I can’t tell you why but you have to believe me when I say that there’s a good reason.” She bit her lip. Steve stood and walked over to her, standing in front of her. 

Steve blinked at her. “I do believe you.” He said hoarsely. “But I also know…” he put his hand on her arm. “That I’ve never felt about a woman the way I feel about you.”

Ororo looked at him sadly. Slowly, she came close and put his face between her hands, pulling him in for a kiss. He was surprised at first, but placed his hands over hers, pressing his mouth more firmly against hers. She deepened the kiss, sliding her fingers in his hair and teasing his lips with her tongue. Pulling back she pressed her forehead against his “Which is why I have to leave.” She murmured.

“Ororo.” He breathed, his eyes half open, his face flushed.

She backed away, going to her room. Shutting the door, she grabbed the few clothes she had and some money she’d saved. Opening the bottom drawer she found the sketchbook she’d bought Steve. Putting it on the bed, she opened the window and climbed out the fire escape. Steve finally managed to open the door just as she exited the room. She took one last look at his face before she took off. He ran to the window, yelling her name at the sky. 

If Mrs. Jones was surprised to find her at her doorstep she didn’t say anything. Ushering her in, she shut the door and gave her a hug, letting Ororo sob as she felt the weight of the last few hours consume her.


	9. Chapter 9

It was May of 1941. Almost a year had passed since she’d seen Steve and Bucky. She’d found an apartment of her own in Harlem and now taught classes out of her own living room during the day. Every night she listened to the radio, hearing the latest news on what was happening in Europe. President Roosevelt had signed the Lend Lease Act, giving aid to Britain and China, but many were still unwilling to involve the United States in the war. She thought of how Steve must be handling this news. She found herself walking past the subway station often, but she never boarded a train to return to Brooklyn. So she kept her head down, taught her students, and made sure to not involve herself anymore in anything that could be connected to Steve and Bucky. 

She was listening to the reports on the latest bombings in England one morning while waiting for her students when there was a knock at her door. 

“Do you have any idea how late you all are.” She admonished as she opened the door only to find Gabe jones grinning at her. 

“Put this on.” He instructed, tossing her a hat. She caught it. 

“A baseball cap?” she asked 

“Not just any baseball cap.” Gabe grinned. “I got us tickets to the Dodgers game today.”

“I have classes.” Ororo said, pushing the cap back towards him. 

“I canceled them.” Gabe said. 

“What?” Ororo asked. 

“You need to cut loose, Ro.” Gabe said. “You’ve been nothing but miserable since you left that old apartment in Brooklyn.”

“And your solution was tickets to a sports event….in Brooklyn?” Ororo asked. 

“Well,” Gabe said. “They’re one of the best teams we’ve got. Come on, Ro. You gotta come. It’ll be no fun if you don’t. Plus think of how cool I’ll look sitting in the stands with the prettiest girl in all NYC on my arm.” 

Gabe’s smile and infectious charm were rubbing off on her. Against her better judgment she put the hat on her head. “Alright.” She said. What were the chances of her running into anyone she knew, anyways?

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was the bottom of the 4th inning when she saw him. How she could have missed him she never knew. The Dodgers were playing Philly and so far, all she’d concluded was that it was an extremely hot day. Gabe had bought her a coke and she smiled gratefully as she took a sip of the soda. Just as the bottle connected with her lips she saw him across the stadium. He was sitting next to Bucky and he was looking right at her. The crowd had been divided by race. She and Gabe were sitting on the top of the backrow. Steve was also really high up in the cheap seats. 

He can’t see you, she thought. Look away now and pretend that nothing’s wrong. She gulped and was about to turn to Gabe when Steve’s lips moved. He said her name. She knew it. She’d watched the way he said the name the way he seemed to caress the syllables with his mouth. She looked down. 

“You okay?” 

Gabe’s face was etched with concern when she turned to him. 

“It’s just,” he continued. “You’ve got that look on your face. The one you get once in a while when you think no one can see you.” He paused. “Like the look you had on your face the night you left your apartment in Brooklyn.” 

“Gabe I don’t want to talk about it.” She said. “I’m not feeling well.” She got to her feet. 

“Ro.” Gabe said, putting his hand on her arm. “What are you running from?” 

She didn’t respond. She just left the stadium. She’d made it a block when she heard him call out for her. 

“Ororo.” 

She closed her eyes, getting ready to call fog to obscure her from him. 

“Don’t…don’t fly away from me.” Before she realized it he’d caught up with her and his hand was on her arm. “Please. Not again.” He was wheezing and he clutched her arm to steady himself. “I don’t think I can take it.” 

“Steve.” She said, looking around. “You should. We should. Some one will see.” 

“So what?” Steve said. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I…I’ve been asking around Harlem, but no one tells me anything.”

Ororo bit her lip. If course no one would tell him anything. Someone like him asking after a black woman spelled trouble and no one wanted that. Or they figured he was planning on hurting her and had kept quiet to protect her. 

“I’ve missed you.” He said. “Buck has too. Please, come home.” 

Her heart wrenched. Home. It was true. The practically bare apartment she now occupied was cold and empty and when she wished for home her thoughts of the Xmansion were often accompanied by a small cramped place in Brooklyn where Steve’s eyes would smile at her. 

“I can’t” she said. 

“Is it because of the weather?” Steve asked. “Because I don’t care about that.” 

“The….” She pulled her arm away. “Steve you are a good man. Better than you even realize, and I cannot put you in danger.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He stuck his chin out. “And I think you’ll find I can be pretty stubborn.” The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. 

Ororo crossed her arms. Fog swirled around them and she prepared to take off, but Steve lurched forward and wound his arms tightly around her. “Let go.” She said. 

“Make me.” He shot back. 

She put her hands on his shoulders, getting ready to push him away when he leaned forwards and up and pressed his lips to hers. She closed her eyes and the fog around them dissipated. 

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Ororo.” He said softly. “Please, don’t run away from this.” 

Before she could respond there were exclamations of horror and disgust from across the street. People were staring at them, pointing and whispering. Ororo felt her gut wrench as a store owner went and got a baseball bat. 

“We can’t out run them.” Steve said, clenching his fists and getting ready for a fight as a group of people advanced. 

“We won’t have to.” Ororo said, “Close your eyes.” She ordered before calling down a bolt of lightning in front of them. Using their audience’s momentary blindness, she grabbed Steve, pulling him tightly against her and flew into the sky. Steve clung to her, his knuckles white, his eyes wide. Looking down he watched as the streets of Brooklyn flew by underneath him. 

Soon they were landing outside the apartment. Steve opened the door and pulled her inside behind him. “Don’t leave?” he asked. “Please.” 

She closed her eyes. Goddess, show me how to say no to him, she begged softly. “Steve, I can’t stay.” She said. Steve looked at the ground.

“I get it.” he murmured. “He’s handsome and…people won’t look at you funny when you walk down the street.” He closed his eyes. “They won’t come after you with baseball bats either.” His face was full of regret. “I guess it’s selfish of me to want to ask you to stay here.” He opened the door and stepped aside. “So…be safe.” He said. 

Unwittingly he’d done the one thing that would make it impossible for her to leave. She’d been ready for anger, for a shouting match. For him to do something to make it easy for her to storm out and leave him behind. 

She couldn’t move. Steve was standing next to the door, waiting for her to make her choice. Seconds turned into minutes. They stayed that way; frozen staring at each other. Steve’s face turned from a mask of calculated determination to slight hope. 

“Yell at me.” she said, her voice raw as she broke the silence. “Tell me I’m a horrible person. Tell me you hate me and you never want to see me again.” She was pleading. Steve shook his head. 

“I won’t…I can’t.” He said softly. 

She closed her eyes. Forgive me. She thought, though she wasn’t sure who she was asking forgiveness from. Stepping closer, she closed the door and pulled Steve into her arms. This time he kissed her first, leaning up and pulling her down to crash his lips against his. Tender, needy, yet gentle. He nibbled her lower lip before caressing it with his tongue. She moved him back, pressing him against the wall. 

“We should…” he broke away. 

“Right.” Ororo said, moving back. “I’m sorry, I-“

“The bedroom, Ororo.” Steve said. “Don’t want Buck walking in on us.” He laced his fingers through hers. 

She squeezed his hand. “Okay.” She stepped back, pulling Steve towards the room she’d occupied. Steve shut the door and moved for another kiss. They lost their balance and tumbled onto the bed, the springs squeaking beneath their combined weight. Ororo giggled. 

“Sorry.” He said, flushing and pressing his face against her neck. “I’ve…never done this before and I’m probably makin’ a fool of myself.” 

Ororo looked up at him. His hair was mussed, his eyes were wide with awe as he looked at her. She reached down and began unbuttoning her blouse. Steve’s mouth opened slightly and he sat back on his heels; his hands on his knees, balled into fists. He watched her fingers as she made it halfway down her blouse. Then she stopped. 

“Are you going to help? Or are you planning on watching all night?” She tilted her head. Steve reached forward and pulled her blouse slowly off her shoulder. Running his fingers along the open front he hesitated before unbuttoning the last few buttons. Ororo sat up and shed it, then reached out for Steve’s shirt. He sat, perfectly still as she opened it. 

“Ororo.” He said, his voice soft. “I’m…” She pressed her lips to his neck and he let out a small groan. 

“You’re perfect.” She murmured, brushing her teeth against the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Steve’s hips jolted upwards and he closed his eyes, a breathy moan escaping his lips. 

A sense of urgency took over their movements. They knew what they were doing was dangerous and that made them clumsy with each other. Ororo accidentally reopened the torn seam on Steve’s pants in her eagerness to remove them. He put a hole in her stockings as he pulled them down. Finally it was just the two of them, breathing heavily in the late afternoon sun. Steve knelt between Ororo’s legs, unsure how to proceed. She ran her leg up the side of his thigh making him tremble slightly. He moved forward, pushing, his eyes closed and mouth parted in a small “oh”. 

His chest was rise and falling rapidly and suddenly Ororo realized that it might be dangerous for him to do this. She moved up on the bed, shifting away from him. Steve looked up, hurt and disappointment written on his features. She tugged him down, kissing him in reassurance before urging him onto his back. Straddling him she lowered herself onto him. He threw his head back and gripped her hips. 

“Ororo.” He said, “I…I…”

“Shhh.” She whispered, not moving. “Just tell me when.” She didn’t know how she managed to keep herself so calm. She watched the blush she’d become so familiar with spread from the tips of Steve’s ears all the way down his chest. She traced her fingers across his collar bones, down his sternum to his stomach. He looked at her. 

“I see it.” he whispered. “You are a goddess.” 

Ororo shook her head. “Isn’t that blasphemy, Rogers?” she teased. He opened his mouth to retort but before he could respond she began to move. 

“O..ro.” he groaned, lifting his hips to meet her. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the gentle slow rhythm she’d set. She started as Steve’s lips pressed against her breast. “Won’t… break.” He said, his words stuttering, but in his eyes burned that same determination she saw every time he was met with a challenge. She kissed his forehead before speeding up slightly. He moaned and she let out a small whine in response. He came first, a small cry of her name on his lips. She followed him soon after, silently and breathing heavily. Sliding off she lay next to him, catching her breath. He rolled over to look at her. She smiled, twirling a strand of his hair in her fingers. 

“You..um…” He looked embarrassed. “You made a lot more noise the night you were teasing Buck.” 

Ororo raised an eyebrow. “True.” She murmured. 

“Was it not?” He looked guilty. “I just….I should have.” 

She captured his lips for a kiss. Taking his hand she gave it a squeeze. “Steve.” She said. “You shouldn’t expect to bring a woman to a screaming orgasm your first time.” She shook her head. “Men, you always have to be good at everything.” 

Steve frowned, crossing his arms. “What’s wrong with wanting you to be happy with me?” He demanded. 

Ororo smiled. “In that case,” she took his hand, “let me teach you.” 

 

 

 

 

 

“Mine.” He whispered later. The sun had set and the two of them were lying together in a tangle of limbs. He was running his fingers along her hip, pressing kisses to her shoulder. She closed her eyes and knew it was true. She was his as he was hers. She held him, feeling shame spreading through her. She’d made every mistake, yet she knew if she had it to do over, she’d make the same choices again. 

“I love you.” She said. “Whatever happens next. Remember that.” 

Steve’s eyes were wide and alight with joy. “Always, Ororo. I love you too.”


	10. Chapter 10

Steve was asleep, his arms clutched tightly around her, his face calm, smiling. She watched his chest rise and fall, tracing the pattern of his ribs. He was so unbelievably vulnerable. She could feel the flutter of his pulse underneath her fingertips; see some of his veins through his skin, his heart beat against hers. 

She loved him, there was no denying that. Perhaps she’d been going about this all wrong. Perhaps the way to ensure the future was to take an active part in it. She felt a flutter of hope; there could be a way to stay. To follow him to battle when he became Captain America; prevent him from dying and save James as well. She could ensure the future all the while staying with Steve. Steve stirred slightly, rubbing his face against her, snoring softly. She let out a small humming sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. It had been a nice thought whie it lasted, but the time for dreaming was over. Whatever she and Steve had, beautiful and wonderful as it was, couldn’t last.

A small noise in the corner of the room broke her out of these thoughts. She looked up. Poking her head through the wall was none other than Kitty Pryde. 

“Hey Ro!” She said, waving and stepping the rest of the way through. Ororo detangled herself gently from Steve’s arms and rushed across the room to envelope her friend in a hug. 

“Kitty.” She said, squeezing her friend, not believing she was real.

“Um…” Kitty awkwardly patted her back. “I know I missed you, but I didn’t miss you enough for a naked cuddle.” She rolled her eyes. “Really regretting not letting Logan do the whole time jump thing.” 

Ororo pulled back and grabbed some of her discarded clothes from the floor. “How did you find me?” She whispered, pulling on her blouse.

“I’ll explain later, right now we need to get you home.” Kitty said. Ororo looked back at the bed. Steve had inched closer to the warm spot she’d abandoned. 

“Home?” she asked , not sure she still knew the meaning of the word. Could the X-mansion give her the same peace she felt next to the man on the bed? 

“The X mansion…” Kitty looked at the bed. “Is that really Steve Rogers? God he’s so small….um” She trailed off as Ororo glared at her. “Right, the mission.” Kitty gave her a sad look, and put her hand on her shoulder before her expression grew serious. “The professor talked to Doctor Strange.” 

Ororo flinched at the sound of the magician’s name. She closed her eyes, afraid of what Kitty would say next. 

“Apparently this moment in time is a fork.” The younger X-man continued. “You can leave and time will right itself with some minor changes or you can stay…and the timeline will suffer unforeseen consequences.” Kitty paused. “Which means there’s a real possibility none of us will exist.” 

Ororo looked back at Steve’s sleeping form. “So no pressure.” She said, bitterly. “Either stay and endanger the entire world. Or leave, abandoning the man I love.” 

“It’s your choice, Ro.” Kitty said. 

“No.” Ororo murmured. “It really isn’t.” 

Kitty looked slightly pained as she nodded. Her next words were hushed. “We won’t judge you if you want to stay.” She paused. “Mostly because none of us will exist. Except Logan; he always seems to survive everything.” 

Ororo closed her eyes. “Can I have a moment alone, please?” she whispered. 

Kitty nodded. “The portal opens again in 5 minutes.” She said, phasing through the wall. Ororo walked cautiously over to the bed. Steve was shivering, beginning to subconsciously notice that she wasn’t there. She felt her heart tearing itself apart as she pulled the blanket over him and pressed her lips to his forehead. She had no choice, she had to leave. 

“Perhaps one day you will understand.” She whispered. “And you will forgive me, my love.” 

He stirred slightly. Perhaps he would wake. A deep, selfish part of her hoped he would. That he would see her dressed and beg her to stay. That he would ask her back to bed. She bit back a sob and pulled away. She walked to the door, taking one last look at Steve. He’d pressed his face into the pillow where her head had been and his hands were reaching for her in his sleep. Leaving, she walked out of the apartment. 

Kitty was waiting for her outside. They walked silently towards the alley where Ororo had first fallen into the year 1939. As they approached a light began glowing. Turning into the alley, Ororo watched as the portal opened, numbness spreading through her limbs. She felt Kitty take her hand and she walked through with her. Glancing behind her she caught one last glimpse of the Brooklyn street before the portal closed and the blackness swallowed her up. 

 

 

 

 

 

Captain Steve Rogers was piloting a plane full of dangerous Hydra weapons above the arctic. The controls were jammed and he was going to have to bring it down manually. Steve heard Peggy telling him that there was still time, but he knew she was wrong. His sacrifice would keep the weapons from Axis hands. It was the only way. A voice, one that he only heard in his dreams, came to him. 

“Perhaps one day you will understand and you will forgive me, my love.” 

Ororo. Had she known? There were so many things about her that were strange and mysterious. Sometimes he wasn’t completely sure that she wasn’t a dream. But Buck had remembered her and so had Gabe. Did she know who he’d become and the choice he was going to make? 

“I’m sorry.” He said. Forcing the plane down he watched as the icy cold approached him, somehow unafraid and at peace. The plane hit the water, plunging into the black. Water rushed in, enveloping him. He closed his eyes, visualizing silver hair, blue eyes and brown skin. If this was the end, he wanted his last thoughts to be about her. She was in front of him, her hair in a loose braid, her eyes as clear and blue as a summer’s day. Her smile kind and warm.

It’s cold, Ororo, he thought, Help me not be cold. 

“I love you.” She said, “Whatever happens next, remember that.” 

“I love you too.” He whispered as the cold made him lose consciousness “And I forgive you.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Ororo.” She heard someone say. Opening her eyes, she saw she was back in the X mansion. Charles, Jean, Scott, Remy, Rogue, and Logan were staring at her. Ororo bit back a sob. Jean came forward and enveloped her in a hug. Ororo clutched her, tears coming down her face. 

“It’s okay.” Jean whispered. “You’re home.” 

Ororo looked at Charles. 

Is he? She asked, needing to know if her sacrifice had been worth it. 

Charles looked down at his hands. “Captain Steve Rogers crashed into the Artic in 1944. He and Sergeant James Barnes gave their lives in service to the allied cause, helping defeat Hydra and win the war.”

Ororo closed her eyes, burying her head in Jean’s neck, crying as the other Xmen surrounded her. She was home. 2 years ago she’d have given anything to be here, but now that it had happened…there was nothing she wanted less.

 

 

 

 

Ororo sat in the library. She’d tucked herself in the corner in between the shelves where Hank kept his encyclopedias to avoid others. None of the students came to this corner, so no one came to bother her. It had been 2 weeks since she’d returned from the past and she’d removed herself from the school’s social atmosphere. She couldn’t take the looks of pity, the whispers. That day, she was seeking solace and silence. Closing her eyes, she attempted to meditate, but the smell of a cigar interrupted her thoughts. 

“Hank will have a fit if he finds you smoking in here.” She said, refusing to open her eyes. 

“Furball’s sheddin does more damage to these books than my cigar.” Logan grunted as he sat next to her. His shoulder bumped hers and she heard the distinct clink of a bottle being placed in front of her.

“You’re breaking my concentration.” She said. 

“You’re lyin.” Logan said, bluntly. She let her eyes open halfway; it was true. Her thoughts had been in turmoil even before he’d interrupted. “So.” He continued. “You’ve been back 2 weeks and not once have you asked what amazing scientific voodoo we used to bring you home.” He nudged the bottle of scotch over to her. She frowned at it. 

“I assume you had help from the young girl who sent me there in the first place.” Ororo said. 

“Her name’s Lin and she didn’t mean it.” Logan said. Ororo almost managed a smile; for all his bravado and gruff exterior, Logan truly cared about the students. 

“I know.” Ororo murmured. “I already told her that.” It had been the first thing she’d done after the group huddle on her return. The young girl did not deserve to live with that burden on her shoulders. 

“Ain’t you gonna ask how we knew where to look?” Logan asked. Ororo didn’t respond. Undeterred, Logan dropped a newspaper article in her lap. Ororo picked it up and looked at it. 

Captain America’s secret Sketchbook, the article read. 

“Hank found that.” Logan explained. 

Ororo gripped the pages as she read how a sketchbook, belonging to Steve Rogers, had been included in a recent exhibit in the Smithsonian. The sketchbook, previously hidden by the government, was causing quite a stir. 

“Apparently it’d been gathering dust in some secret government warehouse.” Logan said. “They didn’t want people knowing that Captain America had connections to a black woman.” He rolled his eyes and puffed his cigar. “Damn racists.” 

The article explained that the sketchbook appeared to have been a gift to Rogers made by an unknown friend who only signed the book O.M. Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered the inscription she’d left in the book when she’d been planning on giving it to him. Before that fake cop had come into their lives and torn them apart. 

To Steve. So Bucky can stop complaining about you doodling on his crossword. Love, OM

“It was your handwriting, Ro.” Logan murmured. “And well I figured you wouldn’t go into the past without causing some type of scandal.” He grinned. “Then we saw the picture.” 

Ororo turned the page, skipping over some historian’s analysis, to a copy of the first and only sketch in the book. It was a drawing of her. Steve had drawn her sitting on the couch, preparing her lessons, books in front of her, her hair down, her expression focused. It was a familiar scene. She closed her eyes and was instantly transported back; she could practically hear his voice attempting to distract her from her lesson plans.

“Come on Ororo, Bucky’s found a club we can all go to together. They accept all kinds we can go dancing!” 

They’d never gone; that night Steve had caught a cold and had been bedridden for a week. He’d never brought up dancing again. He would have had to have drawn this from memory as she’d left before giving him the book. The attention to detail, the love that was expressed in every pencil mark was overwhelming. He’d even gone to the lengths to show how she held her pencil, the way she tucked her legs sideways underneath her. How she’d favored the left half of the couch because the cushions were less worn and therefore softer. All these small things he’d include; each more heartbreaking than the next. She ran her fingers over the signature in the corner. S.Rogers, 1941. Then she saw the title; Home. 

“I bought him that sketchbook…for his birthday.” She murmured. “It cost about a month’s salary, but…” she closed her eyes, the overwhelming truth that he was gone tearing through her. “How do you do it, Logan?” She asked, leaning her head against the book case and looking up at the ceilng in an attempt to have gravity stop the flow of her tears. “How do you open yourself up to love even when you know it’ll end? How can you bring yourself to care about us when you know that one day we’ll all be gone and you’ll be left behind without us?”

Logan put his arm around her as she sobbed. “Because my life would be empty without it.” He said simply. “It’s better to have loved and lost and all that bullshit.” 

Ororo let out a half laugh half cry and pressed herself against him. 

“Hey.” He said. “You’ll get through this, darlin’. One day it won’t hurt so bad.” 

Ororo nodded. “I just wish…” She bit her lip. “I should have explained, I should have…found a way to let him know just how much he meant to me. I spent most of my time making excuses and pushing him away.”

“You had to.” He said. Ororo closed her eyes. “Not that that’ll make it any easier.” He muttered. “But this might.” He handed her the bottle of scotch. She shook her head. “He definitely knew, Ro. Steve Rogers was many things, but an idiot wasn’t one of them.” 

“Thank you, old friend.” She said. Logan snorted. 

“Woman hooks up with Captain America and calls me old.” He muttered. 

Ororo looked at him in horror. “Kitty told you?” 

Logan’s eyes widened. “I was joking…” An evil grin spread over his features, one that she knew meant he’d wait the appropriate amount of time for her to heal, but that he planned on teasing her endlessly about this piece of information. Ororo covered her face and stood, fleeing from the room as Logan’s booming laughter followed her.

 

 

 

 

 

Cold. 

He blinked his eyes open and saw only whiteness. He sat up. There was someone speaking in the corner. Cheers. A ball game. He glanced at the corner. It was a radio speaking. He frowned. The game…that couldn’t be right. It was from 1941. It was…the game. The game where he’d seen her that last day. He felt the familiar stab of pain as he thought of her. She’d been so beautiful and now… His head was still foggy, but his instincts were telling him he was in danger; that something was profoundly wrong. 

The door opened, dragging him out of his thoughts. A woman walked in. Steve’s apprehension increased; something was off about her. It had to be some type of Hydra trick. She said he was in New York. He knew she was lying. He ran out of the room. It was a false façade, attempting to trick him into believing he was safe, that he was home. He ran. Out of the building, out into the street. Cars like he’d never seen before drove by. He ran. Ran until he was caught in the middle of a strange space with lights and billboards advertising things he’d never heard of and never seen before. And the people; they looked strange and wore bizarre clothes…clothes similar to the ones she’d worn the day he and Buck had found her. 

“Captain Rogers.” A voice called out to him. He turned, ready to fight. “My name is Nick Fury.” The man in an eye patch and all black told him.

“Where am I?” Steve demanded, not relaxing his stance. 

“New York.” Nick Fury said, his hands in his pockets. “It’s been a few years since you went to sleep. We’ll catch you up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See! 
> 
> You had to know I wasn't going to make them suffer for long. Happy endings are only truly happy if there's hurt along the way. 
> 
> Thank you so much to all of you for reading!  
> I've got the next 2 chapters written, there's just some editing that I have to do and they'll be up ASAP


	12. Chapter 12

Aliens. 

When Kurt had appeared in her classroom to report it she thought it was some type of prank. But no; a portal had been opened above New York City and was dropping aliens from the sky. The students all went into the underground bunker with the Professor as the Xmen assembled. 

“So, what’s the deal with us being allowed to carve up these buggers?” Logan asked, letting out his claws.

“Go crazy.” Scott sighed as he began piloting the jet. Jean walked over to Ororo.

“You ready for this?” She asked. It was the first real fight since her return. Ororo understood her friend’s concern, but she knew she could handle it. 

She nodded. “Perhaps the end of the world will help me get over my broken heart,” she said in an attempt at humor. It had been 6 months. Things hadn’t gotten easier. 

“Guys.” Kitty said, looking at her phone. “Looks like we won’t be the only ones beating back War of the Worlds.” She held up her phone. “Iron Man’s there.” 

There was a collective groan. 

“Who?” Ororo asked, looking around at the annoyed looks on her teammates’ faces. 

“Right, you missed that.” Scott muttered. “You remember Tony Stark?” 

“Arrogant weapons dealer with more money than manners?” Ororo said.

“He’s some type of hero now.” Scott nodded as Ororo shot him a skeptical look. 

“He got abducted by terrorists and apparently saw the light.” Logan grunted. “Has a flying suit. Calls himself Iron Man.” Scott rolled his eyes. Ororo shook her head. Apparently the two years she’d been gone had been the world’s cue to go mad. 

“What ‘e iz iz a major pain in the derrier.” Remy muttered, his fingers tightening around his staff. 

“Well he’s got friends.” Kitty said, looking back at her phone. “Hello, Muscles.” She grinned as she sighed dreamily at an image on her phone. “I call dibs on fighting next to this hottie.” Ororo glanced over her shoulder to see a picture of a tall man with long blonde hair, holding a hammer. She shook her head, affectionately. Trust Kitty to have her priorities straight before a serious battle. 

“He’s all yours.” She said.

Logan looked at the phone in disgust. “How’re people updatin their internet pages when the world might be endin’?” He growled. 

“Welcome tah tha 21st century.” Rogue muttered. She winced. “Sorry Ro.” She mumbled looking away. Ororo closed her eys and sighed. Her team had been walking on eggshells around her ever since her return. Not that she blamed them; she hadn’t really been communicative lately.

They were about 2 minutes away from the city when someone hacked into their systems. “Hey, X babies, joining the party?” A voice crackled over the intercom. 

Scott gritted his teeth. “Hello, Stark.” He said. “We’re here to help.” 

“Well,” Stark sighed dramatically, “the Avengers are handling this pretty well, but if you want to stick around-“

“The what?” Scott growled. 

“Stark.” Another voice said from Stark’s intercom. “We need all the help we can get.” 

Ororo froze. That voice…how was it possible?

“Alright, hold on to your stars and stripes.” Stark sounded annoyed. “We would be very happy to have all of you help us kick Thor’s brother’s whiny butt.”

“I do not understand how a butt can be whiny.” A loud booming voice came over the coms. Scott shut off the coms. 

“Just a reminder.” He said. “We’re here to fight the aliens. Not Stark’s new crew.” He gripped the controls of the jet. 

The other Xmen erupted in conversation about the “Avengers”. None of them noticed Ororo’s panic. That had been Steve’s voice; she’d have recognized it anywhere. But that was impossible; he was dead. The second Scott landed the jet and opened the door, she took off, flying into the sky. Calling down wind, rain and lightning, she attacked the large alien monsters coming through the portal. The sooner they were defeated, the sooner she could discover who that voice belonged to. 

“A fellow lightning conjurer.” The loud booming voice said. She turned to see the man from Kitty’s phone looking at her with approval. 

“More than that.” She said, creating a tornado and capturing one of the large beasts in its path. Sending the funnel upwards, she pushed the creature back through the portal. 

“Fearsome indeed.” The man remarked. He hit an alien about to attack her. “I believe we will be fast friends, lightning maiden. I am Thor.” 

Ororo didn’t answer. Landing on a building she concentrated on bringing down rain, hail, anything to counteract the invading army. A large green man in shorts punched and attacked any alien that came close to him about 2 streets over from her position. There was a man in a purple outfit shooting arrows on a building 3 blocks over. A woman in black with flaming red hair to rival Jean’s was fighting in the street below. She continued scanning the battle, sending winds and lightning wherever needed. 

Then she saw him. He was struggling to keep an alien away from a group of people attempting to flee. His suit gleaming red, white, and blue. The confrontation caused him to lose his helmet and she gasped. It couldn’t be him and yet…the man below had his face, albeit he was taller and bulkier than when she’d last seen him. 

He was also dangerously close to losing the fight. Imposter or not she couldn’t let him die. She raised her hands, calling surges of energy into her hands and directed them at the street below. The lightning struck the alien’s armor, causing it to flail its limbs as it was electrocuted. It wailed and crumpled to the ground, smoke rising from the metal. Steve looked up. His eyes wide. It wasn’t Steve, she chided herself. She needed to focus on the task at hand. The man put up his hand, shading his eyes against the glare, but she flew away before he could get a good look. It couldn’t be him; it had to be some sort of government trick. A clone pulled out in order to bring hope in a hopeless situation. Her anger boiled over. How dare they? She focused her rage on the alien threat. She’d deal with the imposter afterwards. 

The fight lasted for hours. Finally the portal was sealed. Stark had tumbled through and landed in the middle of Park Ave in front of the ruins of Grand Central station. The false Steve was kneeling next to him. Ororo flew over to them, landing in front. The man looked up, his eyes widened as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing. He opened his mouth to say something, but Ororo glared and picked him up with a gust of wind, slamming him against a ruined lamp post. Behind her the green creature roared. She heard Logan let out his claws, probably to keep her from being pounded beneath his fists. 

“What gives?” Stark shouted. “He’s one of the good guys.” 

“Back up, bub.” Logan growled. Ororo was grateful for her friend’s support.

“What…are…you?” She demanded, looking at the imposter’s face as she pressed her hand to his neck. “How dare you wear his uniform?” It was a good imitation, she’d admit that much, but that only drove the knife deeper in her ribs.

“Ororo?” He said. How did he know her name? 

“WHAT ARE YOU?” She knew she was hysterical, but she would not allow everything Steve stood for to be taken by this fake. He’d given his life for justice and hope; he deserved better than to be replaced by some lab experiment. Her eyes went white and the sky around them darkened. The air became charged with electricity and thunder rumbled. But the man in front of her didn’t seem to be afraid. Instead he looked at her as if he couldn’t get enough of her face; as if he’d been trapped in a desert and she was the first water he’d seen. 

“You always asked for salad.” It was soft, but it was enough to make her loosen her grip. 

“What?” Ororo said, hardly daring to believe what she’d heard and what it meant.

“Whenever we’d pretend we had enough money for food.” The man said. “You’d always say salad. Buck would tease you something fierce.” Ororo let go of his neck and stepped back. He put his arms on hers pulling her back towards him. “You hated the subway because it made you feel trapped. I never understood until I found out you could fly. You’d come home every day with chalk dust on your clothes and you grabbed a bucket of water to wash off outside before coming in because you didn’t want to make me sick. No matter rain or snow you’d always do it.” He had tears running down his face, leaving tracks through the dirt and blood and grime of battle. Ororo gulped, clutching him as though he would slip through her fingers. Her eyes reverted back to their natural color as the tempest she’d created began to die down. “Whenever Buck had a dame over you’d let me sleep with you because the couch made me sneeze.” He brushed hair from her face. “And the last night we were together you told me to remember that whatever happened next you loved me.” 

“Steve.” She said, her legs growing weak as the last of the storm disappeared. They both sank to their knees, exhausted from the fight and overcome by the weight of their emotions. 

“Ororo.” He said, leaning down and pressing his lips to hers. She wound her arms around his neck and kissed him, his lips still soft and tender even under all the dust of battle. Even after all the years and the serum, they were the same. She poured all her apologies, longing, pain, and love into that kiss and he responded. No longer needing to fight for each breath, he crushed her against his chest. 

“Is this a dream?” She whispered as they pulled apart, capturing his lips in a small kiss, afraid for a moment that she’d hurt herself during the battle and was experiencing hallucinations. 

“Been askin myself that since they pulled me from the ice.” Steve murmured. “But for the first time, I don’t want to wake up.” He pecked her lips again. “I’m never letting you go. Never again.” 

She ran her fingers through his hair and pressed her forehead against his. “And I won’t leave you. I promise.” 

“Eh hem.” They turned, startled, suddenly realizing that there were other people around them. Steve tensed, glaring at the Avengers and Xmen as if daring them to say anything about him and Ororo. 

“I take it you know each other?” Tony Stark was getting slowly to his feet. 

Steve stood and offered his hand to Ororo to help her up. “Ororo’s my best girl.” he said. 

The archer wolf whistled. “Nice going Cap.” He said, leering. Steve pressed her more firmly against his side. Stark gaped at the two of them. 

“How in the hell does Captain virginity get a girl straight out of defrost?” He asked. 

The red head looked at her with interest. Ororo got the feeling that she understood more of what was happening than she let on. 

“Truly she is a fearsome warrior.” Thor said. “You have won the heart of a worthy lady, Captain.” 

“We need to secure Loki.” Steve said, putting his arm around Ororo’s waist. 

“Then shwarma.” Stark said. “Where I will learn all the dirty details about you.” He pointed at Ororo. He and the rest of the Avengers turned and walked towards Stark Tower. Steve held Ororo close and bent to pick up his shield. 

“Don’t worry.” He said. “We don’t have to…shwarma.” He shook his head at Stark’s antics. 

“Where are you staying?” Ororo asked. 

“SHIELD got me an apartment.” Steve murmured. He was tired. She could tell because even if he was taller and full of super serum there were somethings about him that were still the man she’d met in a Brooklyn alleyway. He held his shoulders slightly hunched and his fingers did a slight double twitch. 

Ororo wrapped her arms around him. “Well, Steven I do believe it is my turn to have you stay with me.” He looked down at her, a smile playing at his lips. 

“Is that so?” He asked. 

Ororo nodded. “I think you’ll find, Captain Rogers,” she said, putting her hands on his face and pulled him down for another kiss, “that I can be very stubborn.”


	13. Chapter 13

After locking away Thor’s brother, indulging Tony’s shwarma curiosity, Steve went with the X-Men. The jet ride back was bizarre. Ororo and he sat next to each other; bumping into each other everytime it hit a wind current. He couldn’t believe it; she was alive. In this time where everything was unfamiliar and strange, he had someone. 

The X-men gave them their space, throwing him smiles and curious looks. Except for the clawed man with mutton chops, who Stark had said was called Wolverine. He sat off to the side, glaring at the two of them while menacingly sharpening his claws. Ororo shot him a look, but he only smirked and continued sharpening. 

“That’s Logan.” She said. Steve raised an eyebrow. 

“The Logan who you learned that trick with the noise from?” He asked, Ororo nodded. 

“He’s just protective.” She shook her head. “And not as terrifying as he likes to think he is.” She raised her voice, causing Logan to huff and look away. Steve chuckled. 

“Strap in, we’re landing.” Cyclops said. 

Steve put his arm around Ororo. The jet landed in a large underground hangar that was underneath a tennis court. The court closed above them. As they all filed off the Jet, Steve looked around, shocked. The XMansion was enormous and he couldn’t help but notice how well equipped the team was in terms of weapons. 

“Welcome to the X Mansion, Captain Rogers.” A British man in a wheel chair said as he wheeled over to them. Behind him was a line of teenagers. “I am professor Charles Xavier.” 

Steve looked around the hangar. “This is quite an impressive set up.” He said, slowly. 

The professor gave him an indulgent smile. “We aren’t arming for war, Captain Rogers.” Steve raised an eyebrow and took a step back. That had been exactly what he’d been thinking while taking in the well stocked hangar. 

“Professor Xavier is a telepath.” Ororo explained, crossing her arms and giving the professor a look. They stared at each other and Steve realized that they must be having a telepathic conversation. The professor nodded at her before turning his attention back to Steve. 

“My apologies if it seemed intrusive, Captain Rogers.” The professor said. “Your thoughts were loud and I simply wanted to reassure you.” He inclined his head. “The material in here is meant to protect our students. Public opinion of Mutants is often quite…volatile.” He looked at the team of X-men. “I suppose the world is safe.” 

“Fury wants to talk to you.” Cyclops said.

“Of course.’ The professor said. “I trust Tony Stark is still living?” he gave the mutant an amused smile as Cyclops gritted his teeth. 

“Not if I had been in charge.” Wolverine muttered as he pushed past Cyclops. The group of students came closer, Steve felt the weariness weighing on him and he braced himself for what he was sure was going to be the barrage of questions from them. Then a warm hand slipped into his. He looked down to see Ororo smiling up at him. 

“Come with me.” She said, pulling him past the students. She parted the crowd, the students biting back on their enthusiasm when she gave them stern looks. She clearly had their respect and they knew better than to cross her. He wasn’t surprised, she’d been a dedicated teacher back in the 30’s. In addition she was powerful. He’d learned that today when he’d seen the winds, the lightning, and the tempests she’d conjured with her bare hands. 

“This is our school” Ororo said. “The X-men are mutants like me.” She paused. “I’m guessing you have a lot of catching up to do.” 

“Nothing that can’t wait until after I’ve had a shower…or five.” He looked down at his uniform. 

“Well, you’re in luck as I happen to have a shower.” Ororo said. She walked him to her room and showed him to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back. I just need to steal some clothes from one of the guys.” 

She walked out of the room. Steve could hear her talking to one of the other Xmen…Jean he thought. 

“Warren needs big shirts because of his wings and he’s about as tall as Rogers.” Jean explained. “There’s pajamas, underwear, pants, shirts and we’re leaving food outside your door tomorrow at breakfast. We don’t want to see you for at least two days.” There was a smile in her voice; she and Ororo were clearly close. “Be happy, Ro. You’ve got a second chance.”

“That’s if he’s not angry about the choices I had to make.” Ororo said softly. There was a pause. 

“Something tells me he’ll understand.” 

Steve frowned, it was true. While there was a lot about Ororo he didn’t, he wasn’t stupid. Besides the fact that interracial relationships had been dangerous back in their…his time, she’d always seemed out of place. Seeing her interacting with X-men had answered many of his questions. 

He heard Ororo coming into the room and stepped into the shower, stripping out of the uniform. He grimaced as the slightly faded bruises that littered his body became visible. Though they’d disappear quickly, they still hurt. He could practically hear Bucky shouting that just because he could take the hits didn’t mean that he had to. He avoided pressing them too hard as he cleaned off the grime of battle. 

Grabbing a towel and tying it around his waist, he walked out into Ororo’s room. She was sitting by the window, looking out. She appeared mesmerized and when glanced out he could see gathering clouds. She was nervous. Steve took a moment to really look at her. She seemed tired, and not necessarily because of the battle. Her black uniform with a cape and X symbol hung limply on her as she stared out the enormous windows. Windows, he mused, that must have been installed to help combat her claustrophobia. He cleared his throat. She whipped around. 

“Sorry, just.” Her eyes went to his chest before looking up. “It’s bizarre having to look up to talk to you.” She laughed nervously. 

Steve shook his head. “Yeah…that was the first thing Buck said when he saw me after…” he paused. Ororo looked at the ground, both of them thinking of their friend and feeling his absence. She had to know he was gone. It was in every history book. His fall; Steve’s failure to save him. 

“I’m sure he was happy to not have to worry about you every two seconds.” She said. Steve smiled and shook his head. 

“You kiddin? If anything he complained that it made me more reckless because I thought I was invincible.” 

Ororo chuckled. “That sounds like James.” She picked up the pile of clothes and handed it to him. “And that sounds like you. These…Jean brought these, the sweat pants and t shirt should fit and-“ 

“Ororo.” He said, taking her hands in his, stilling her and stopping her nervous ramble. It was unlike her; she was usually so composed. “This is…’ He closed his eyes and shook his head, “beyond strange for me too and I’ve got about a million questions.” He brushed his fingers across her cheeks. “But none that I need answered just yet. Right now, what I need is to fall asleep in the arms of the woman I love.” 

Ororo nodded. “I’ll just.” She motioned to her combat uniform. Steve nodded and stepped out of the way as she made her way to the bathroom. He pulled on the clothes she’d given him and listened to the water of the shower. He was practically asleep when he felt her warmth as she slid into the bed next to him. He rolled over and pulled her close. She let out a small contented sigh. Outside the clouds cleared. 

 

 

 

 

Because of the previous day’s exhausting events it wasn’t until late afternoon that either of them woke. Steve had his face pressed against her chest, his arm thrown across her waist, refusing to open his eyes, in case he’d been mistaken and that the previous day had all been a dream. That changed when Ororo ran her fingers over the back of his neck and down his spine. He shivered slightly and pressed closer to her. Blinking his eyes, he looked up, sleepily at her. 

“Was having a dream.” He said. “I fought aliens and you were there.” 

“It was real.” She said, smiling her face glowing with the sun coming in from the large windows. He smiled, and slid up to press a kiss to her lips. She grinned against his lips and tried to flip him onto his back, but he wasn’t having it. She pouted. “This isn’t fair.” 

“Oh?” Steve said. 

“You were a lot less heavy the last time we did this.” She grumbled. An awkward silence fell. “I didn’t mean…I’m sorry.” She pulled away.

“Ororo.” Steve said. She stood and began pacing the room. She ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head. She was nervous; she’d thought he’d get angry and leave. He sat up, waiting for her to speak. 

“I guess…I should start at the beginning.” She said softly. “Most of what I told you and James was true; I was born in Kenya…in 1986. I was dropped in 1939 by a portal created by an emerging mutant.” She winced as Steve frowned. “I knew who you were the second I saw your face and I knew that being near you was dangerous. For you, the war, the future. But I wasn’t sure how the portal could open again or where and…I don’t expect to care about you. I didn’t expect to fall in love with you.” She looked at her hands. “And when Kitty came through the portal after that…” she broke off, smiling softly, “after that night. She told me that we were at a crossroads. That my decision would maintain the timeline or destroy it forever.”

Though he’d been expecting something similar it still came as a shock. It certainly explained a lot. “How could she have known that?” He asked. “Is it one of her abilities?” 

“No.” Ororo said. “She consulted Doctor Strange.” She must have seen the look of confusion on his face because she explained; “he’s a mystic; a magician.” 

“Magician.” Steve murmured. “Sure why not.”

“Steve.” Ororo grinned. “You are alive despite being frozen for over half a century. I control the weather. Surely you can believe that magicians exist.” 

“So…you walked away to save the future.” Steve said, “to make sure I became Captain America.” 

Ororo nodded. The magnitude of her sacrifice was overwhelming. He couldn’t believe the weight of what she’d had to endure, living with him and Buck all the while knowing exactly how they’d end.

“You knew what would happen to me…to Bucky.” 

“I’m sorry.” Ororo said. “I knew the entire time and while there was nothing more I wanted than to prevent it, I couldn’t.” She looked in his eyes. “Steve, you and James’ sacrifice allowed us to win the war. It kept Hydra from gaining control and ruling over all with injustice and hatred. You inspired many to stand up and fight for justice and freedom. You helped shape our world.” She looked down. “I…I couldn’t risk jeopardizing this future. I hope you can understand why I made the choices I made.” She was turned slightly away from him. He didn’t have to turn to the windows to know that the weather would match her mood. She was anxious. 

“I forgave you.” Steve said softly, standing and walking over to Ororo. “When I went into the ice…I…heard your voice.” She glanced up at him, her eyes wide. “You told me that maybe one day I’d understand.” He gripped her hands. “I think I did and…the thought kept me warm….for however long I was conscious.” 

They stared at each other, their eyes hungrily taking in every detail. 

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t mad as hell when I woke up and you were gone.” He said, chuckling, causing Ororo to grimace. “I swore that after the war, I’d do everything I could to find you again.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “When I woke up I tried to find out what happened, but there were no records of you anywhere in the archives….which makes sense now.” He blushed. Ororo stepped closer. 

“There you are.” She said, pressing her hand against his cheek. “I was wondering where the man I fell in love with was and now I see him. He’s hiding underneath all this muscle.” 

Steve cleared his throat, embarrassed and shuffled his feet. “Don’t like it?” She put her arms around his shoulders. “Or will you miss pushing me around?” 

“I did not push you around.” She gasped, smacking his chest. Steve grinned. 

“See? You’re doing it now.” 

She let go and turned away from him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up; she let out a surprised squeak. “I gotta say, I kinda like it.” He said, carrying her over to the bed. She laughed as he put her down. “Gives me a hope against you, goddess.” 

She rolled her eyes, looking up at him. “I could smite you where you stand.” 

“Guess I better stop standing then.” He said, leaning down to press his lips against hers, his hands going to her shirt. 

“Wait.” She said. “I need to get…” She got up, and went to the door. Steve watched as she opened the door. She glanced down and frowned. “Oh I will kill them.” She muttered, grabbing something off the floor and shutting the door. Steve looked at what she was holding. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

“Condoms.” Ororo sighed, glaring down at the boxes in her hands. “They left different sizes just in case.” She shook her head in fond irritation. “This has Remy written all over it.” Steve laughed. 

She sat on the bed next to him. Steve sat up and pulled her so she was on his lap, wrapped his arms around her and placed his head on her shoulder. She closed her eyes. “I’d rather not talk about your family right about now.” He murmured. Leaning back, she kissed him. Turning she straddled his hips. 

“Uh uh.” He said. She raised an eyebrow. 

“What?” 

“This time I get to be on top.” Steve said. Ororo laughed. 

“We’ll see about that, Captain.” She said, pressing him down, pulling off his t shirt. She was breathtaking, determined. She stole his breath away, just like the first time. He kept his eyes open; unwilling to miss a second. 

 

 

 

 

 

The neighborhood had changed. He and Ororo were enjoying a day off from hero responsibilities and teaching to take a walk through their old streets. Steve ducked his head as the 4th bearded , beanie wearing man complimented him on his “awesome glasses”. Ororo chuckled. 

“Why did I have to wear these again?” He asked. “It’s not like I need them.”

“To fit in.” Ororo replied. “Trust me, he doesn’t need them either.” She laughed at his confusion. “It’s a trend. It’s ironic.” 

“It’ll ruin his eyes.” Steve muttered. 

“Making fun of the young whippersnappers grandpa?” She teased, nudging him in the side 

Steve nudged her back. “I get enough old jokes from Stark. I am not taking them from you.” He smiled. “’specially because you lived here too.”

“For 2 years.” Ororo retorted. 

Steve chuckled. 

“Besides, there are some advantages to living in this time.” She said, taking his hand. He glanced around, nervous, as he always was whenever they’d make contact in public. He didn’t need to be. Passersby largely ignored them, their eyes passing over them as if the were simply a lamp post or a traffic light. No one was pointing, no one was shouting. No one was questioning it. 

“It’s not perfect.” Ororo said, softly. “There’s still a long way to go, but.” She smiled. “In 1940 we wouldn’t have been able to do this.” 

Steve relaxed and pulled her closer. “What do you want for lunch? I’m thinking pizza.” 

“Salad.” Ororo replied. There was a slight pause as they both heard the echoes of Bucky’s voice mocking Ororo’s choice. Steve felt the familiar pang at the loss of his friend, but as he continued to walk down the sundrenched Brooklyn street with Ororo at his side, he realized he wouldn’t have to bear it alone.


End file.
